Katherine of Coldstone
by Salome Weil
Summary: Rescued from an unjust prison sentence only to be thrown into the role of hero, how will the young Nordic woman cope with her new position in life? Can her training from Skyrim help her save the empire...and the man she is falling in love with?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

I looked from Jauffre to Baurus, unwilling to make a decision. How could they be asking this of me, yet again? I sighed and brought a hand to my eyes, rubbing at them briefly, wearily.

I'd been riding for two days straight as it was, desperate to make it back as soon as I'd completed the mission. It hadn't been easy, finding the Shrine of Azura…then facing the horrors of the gutted mine. I shuddered with the memory. I wasn't sure I'd ever get the image of those undead out of my mind. Their soulless, empty eyes staring at me even after I'd cut them down. Even after I'd hacked at them, waiting out the adrenaline that had filled me the first time one had overtaken me- I'd been so sure it was the end for me that I'd chopped it into a dozen pieces before I'd realized it wasn't going to get up again. That it was truly released from its horrific existence.

The sounds they made as they were attacking, though…as they were dying…I shuddered again. With a mighty effort, I blocked the images and sounds from my mind. It was not easy; I had to draw an iron curtain in my head in order to do it. I imagined it was similar to what I'd had to do in order to survive my first years in Cyrodiil…the only reason I was still alive at all. It was my uncanny ability to make myself feel nothing at all that made me a good warrior- a good _assassin_, which is what I was for these people. Going around, killing anyone who got in the way of saving their precious empire. No, I was not doing this for _them_, not by any means. They only called me a champion because they were to ashamed to call me what I truly was for them.

Their deadly shadow.

I looked up at the two men before me once more. These men, at least, had good intentions though they were far from innocent. Baurus, I preferred. Jauffre, I could tolerate. I looked past them to where Martin sat, engulfed in whatever text lay before him on the table. He hadn't seen me yet; hadn't realized I'd returned triumphant once more. I felt another shudder pass through me and cringed inwardly.

No, that wasn't good. I forced the iron curtain down further- turned it to stone. If anything, Martin was even less innocent than the men before me; but I was hard pressed to blame him for any of this mess. It was far from his fault…wasn't it? No, no! It was the people out _there_, the commoners of Cyrodiil, that I acted for. Not because I was actually growing _fond_ of any of these people, let alone _him._

"Let me know when you're decided," Jauffre prompted me once more. I looked at him, startled. Right. He'd been speaking to me.

I smiled back tightly and hefted my sword over my shoulder. Baurus' eyes narrowed at the action; they all wished I weren't so free with my weapon. One wrong move and anyone could be hurt. My smile grew even tighter. It was too late to worry about who was _going_ to get hurt or _if _anyone would- people were dying all around us. The _fools_.

The word rang in my head so strongly it reverberated there for a moment and I blinked, dazed and suddenly feeling my three days' journey. I hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. I'd only thought of what needed to be done- _for his sake_. Augh! This was impossible. I wasn't _allowed_ to feel such things; I mustn't!

Sweeping my stony green eyes over Jauffre, I hesitated before replying. I knew it would be best to start on the new task immediately, rather than delay and speak to Martin. Still, the unrelenting weariness nagged at my mind, throwing my common sense from me as firmly as it had every other intention. I sighed and let my body sag a little, returning my sword to its sheath, much to Baurus' relief.

"I'll do it, Jauffre; you know I won't refuse your requests. I just need to rest a while first. I must recover," I murmured. Though my body language spoke of exhaustion and instability, I kept my eyes blank and my face an unreadable portrait.

"Ah, I knew you wouldn't let us down," he replied swiftly, an answering, and more genuine, smile breaking across his face. "Now you must go to Martin. He is anxious to speak with you."

_Not anxious enough to notice my presence,_ I thought wryly, but I sheltered my thoughts from Jauffre's anxious eyes. I was certain he did not care what I thought anyhow. How I felt had never been an issue for him aside from when it meant I would not do as asked. Never mind that he was the head of the Blades and had the right to have me thrown back in prison at any moment. It would have been easy for him, truly, to threaten me with that fate, to pretend like the late emperor had not granted me a pardon. Just because he hadn't yet used this against me did not make the knowledge that he _could _use it if he chose to any less troublesome. Or any less motivating.

I refused to go back to prison unjustly.

I sighed again. That was neither here nor there. I wasn't going back yet, after all. I nodded to both men and continued towards Martin; besides, this question of defending Bruma was nothing compared to giving Martin what he needed in order find the amulet and close the gates. I needed to focus on one thing at a time.

Martin looked up as he heard me approach. He smiled at me; his weariness nearly matched my own.

"Katherine," he spoke softly, "you have returned. I saw you speak with Jauffre; I trust everything is alright? I did not want to disturb your conversation."

My eyes widened imperceptibly, but his keen blue eyes seemed to catch the action and he nodded once, as if answering an unspoken question. "Your role in all this is more important than my own," he added. There was no trace of bitterness. I continued to stare at him and when he said nothing more, I finally shrugged and slung my knap sack from my shoulder to the table. There was no point thinking further on it- Martin was a strange one. As strange as his father.

I _was _surprised by his admission, but it did me no good to dwell on it. I had to be stone for these tasks. _Stone _for the duration of the terror. It did no one any good if I was an _emotional _Nord warrior. My height, my brawn, and my brain would be nothing if I allowed myself to feel those emotions resting just under the surface of my being now. How they'd risen so far to the top, I didn't know, but they were there just the same, always threatening these days. As if Kvatch and the Priory hadn't been enough. Then that terrifying ride through the night, the day, and the night to get to Cloud Ruler.

And the gates- always so many of them. It was enough to make any normal Nord male scream, let alone a female. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I uncharacteristically took a seat across from Martin to hand him the star. Smoothing a hand over my short, auburn hair as he examined it with growing excitement, I allowed myself to examine one of the emotions I felt now.

Fondness. Tolerance. _Appreciation. _The question was, did those equal friendship alone?

I'd known Martin a week at the most…but it had been a rushed, dangerous week. Full of close calls with death and worse. I still remembered the looks some of the dremora had given me, and I was certain that human women, let alone those that were formidable opponents, rarely made an appearance on the planes of Oblivion. In the atmosphere of Oblivion, it was possible to believe anything…things that as a child growing up in Skyrim and then a young girl amongst the Skaal, I would have heard as morality tales, to make me behave better. It was hard not to behave better when under threat of death or eternal damnation. I'd never understood how so many of my peers could get into trouble in such a small village…and then I'd moved to Cyrodiil.

The place _was _the land of eternal damnation; I'd been sure of that for a while. But it was hard, when thinking back to initial days of freedom and wonder, when remembering traveling across the well marked roads with ruins and mountains and trees in plain sight for all to enjoy, to seriously think of Cyrodiil as hell rather than home.

I'd run across the abandoned cottage only a few weeks before my trouble had begun. It still stood there, solid. Sturdy…

It was someone else's home now. I intended to find out whose, once I was free of debt. If I lived.

"This is magnificent, it's so much more than I'd imagined. How did you do it?" Martin was still speaking to me, his voice less soft now and more animated. He was excited by my find and I was glad of it; glad he could use it. I had no use for the baubles they made me recover. I had no use for the Daedra or the Nine.

I grimaced at the question and shook my head. How could I tell him those things? I did not need to speak many words around Martin. He understood me well, and his face fell.

"I am sorry, Katherine. I should not have asked you. But these are so rare…it will do perfectly. I thank you for your efforts, however great the cost."

I shuddered again, remembering the one undead's fangs, so close to my neck. "What is next?" I managed to choke out. I was exhausted, but wanted to continue forward. Taking the time to consider my thoughts had turned more dangerous than I'd imagined. Martin was too kind to me, too generous of heart and spirit…even though I hadn't said it to myself yet, I could easily tell where the feeling was going if I allowed it to continue. That couldn't happen.

Martin stared at me as if I were insane. "You need rest, Katherine. You have already been through many ordeals just to bring us this much."

I grit her teeth against the sleep and his tone. "Are you saying I am not up to the task?"

"You know that is not what I mean. You are fully aware you are the only one capable of fulfilling these missions. No one here is as well equipped as you are."

"Then tell me," I insisted, leaning forward in her seat. Martin shook his head.

"Go, rest. Come back once you are well again. I have more translating to do." With that, the discussion was over. I felt my anger winning against the sleep. I stood abruptly, jostling the table in my hurry to leave. Several books thumped to the floor, the sound echoing in the great hall. I glared down at Martin as he glanced back up, surprised by my reaction. _Of course he's surprised, _I told myself. _You've been far too easy with him. You let him think of you as his friend rather than his champion, when you are not either. It is time he faced up to that._

"Give me something to _do_," I pleaded. _Anything to keep me from going on another pointless journey for Jauffre_, _anything to keep me from sleeping and seeing those things in my dreams, _my eyes begged. Martin was silent for a moment longer and it took that second for me to grow angry with myself for taking things out on him. He didn't deserve it, after all, he was trying to look out for me, unlike the rest of them. The trouble was, the nicer he was, the less I wanted to do my job. The less the horrors of my lot were easily blocked. I spun on my heel, as gracefully as a full grown, fully armored Nord woman could, and stomped from the hall. I could feel Martin's eyes on me all the way to the door. Then I was outside.

* * *

I stomped my way around the battlements of the temple and the other Blades jumped out of my way as I passed. I paused at the edge and peered down. It seemed like, from the top of the mountain, I could see for miles. Not as well as in Skyrim, but still a good distance. The mountain was beautiful and chill. I liked the cold. The cold didn't bother me the way it bothered most of the sissy Imperials and Redguards. Still, the brisk wind forced my hood up. I knew I looked ridiculous wearing a full set of armor and a hood, but i preferred a protection against cold, rain and wind to an awkward helmet. Helmets rusted and didn't keep your ears warm. I shuddered again. Was it shock, I wondered? Should I be inside after all?

What _was_ I doing out here, anyway? I knew Martin was right; I needed rest and food before accepting an additional mission. Because I understood that much about myself; even though I considered Jauffre's mission to be of minimal importance, I would attempt to complete it at the same time I was doing whatever it was Martin had found for me to do. Sighing, I rested my chin on one hand, peering out over the mountainside. A voice suddenly spoke behind me. I didn't turn.

"What are you doing up here? You need to be resting. Jena explained to me what you did- that's enough to take a year off of your life."

I recognized the voice. It was Arcturus, one of the Imerpials. His permanent post was Cloud Ruler and he took his job at the battlement lookouts very seriously.

"Hmm," I replied, hoping he'd leave me alone. If I thought the dremora looked at me funny, I _knew _the Blades did. Had they never had a Nord woman on the team before? Honestly, these men. I didn't know how Jena and Caroline put up with it. Still, they _were _decent. They never pretended to be better than me, only leered at me when they thought I wasn't looking.

"What's eating you?" he asked, coming up beside me.

I jumped at the question, recalling where it was I'd been only yesterday and shook my head mutely. He immediately looked chagrinned, then whistled.

"So that's what you had to do for the star," he added. "Jena told me you'd gone to the shrine, but you actually had to clear out that den for it?"

That surprised me and I finally turned to look at him. "You know of the mine?" I managed in a quiet, controlled voice.

"Aye," he replied. He was smiling grimly. "We received word about it from the Imperial city a few years ago- they wanted us to send a contingent to clean the mess up. Azura's followers had already arrived and taken care of the real vampires at that time…it was a terrible price they paid. When we got there, we could hear them; just on the other side of that small wooden door. They wanted out…or wanted us in, but we couldn't get the door open. It was the damnedest thing," he finished.

"I had to speak at her shrine first," I offered. "She was keeping it locked for the sake of both parties. They were very powerful," I added thoughtfully.

"Don't think we could have handled it?" Arcturus asked, a chuckle on his lips.

I turned my eyes out over the land again as the curtain in my mind lifted and I clearly remembered the horror. "No," I said succinctly. I felt sure

He looked at me in consternation and I knew what he was thinking. He wondered if I spoke the truth or if I was bluffing; they all did. Only Martin seemed to know I said exactly what I meant. There wasn't a deceptive bone in my body…unless it was my job to be sneaky. That was what had led to the escape of Camoran with the amulet back at the Mythic Dawn's lair. I hadn't been able to lie well enough- every bone in my body had wanted to simply slaughter them all and the warrior in me had eventually made an escape.

"Do you need to talk about it, soldier?" he finally asked after a lengthy silence.

And the curtain came back down. I turned to look at him once more and he could see it happening, right behind my eyes. I could tell by the anger that mounted in his own eyes. He would've shook me if he thought he could get away with it.

"No," I replied again, although I kept my voice gentler.

"No one can do what you've done so far and live with it, Katherine Coldstone," he admonished me. _Wonderful, _another man who thought I needed taking care of. No, thank you- I knew how that one worked. I shook my head at him.

"I am a Nord. You are an Imperial. You do not understand the way my people work," I returned, shrugging simply, expecting that to put an end to such nonsense. He growled and I looked back quickly, surprised.

"Wrong. If I was an elf, or maybe a Breton, I wouldn't understand," he said roughly. "But I know you Nords and you're all alike. I grew up in the Imperial City; I've known people of every race and Nords are one race I understand _particularly _well."

"Then you know that my name has more meaning than being something I was born with," I replied, smoothing out my expression.

His eyes glanced at me from beneath his helmet, searching out mine. I let him find them freely, unblinkingly staring back from beneath my green hood. I knew they were cold as ice and he finally realized it himself. I gave every impression of being as cold as stone. He looked away abruptly.

"It's funny how cold your eyes are for such an inviting color," he laughed awkwardly. "Is your heart the same?"

I stared at him, confused. Without another word, my companion suddenly turned and walked away, back to the guard hut. I followed him without a thought.

"Wait," I said, reaching out to touch his arm, "what did you mean?" There was really no need for me to ask; I knew perfectly well what he meant- I just wanted to hear him say it out loud. I wanted to know if it was what they were all thinking.

"Nothing, Katherine Coldstone," he said gruffly, shaking my arm off. "But I know you Nords, and you're the same as any of them. You're stubborn and implacable and quick to anger, but when it comes to expressing yourself in any real manner you're suddenly all of six years old!"

I allowed myself a laugh. "I was a rather precocious six year old, then," I remarked lightly, trying to inject some humor into the situation.

He glowered at me and I sighed. "Listen to me, Arcturus," I began. "I don't know what all of you are saying about me behind my back-," he had the decency to look chagrinned and I continued, "but it's not fair to me. I have a heart, but why do you think I keep it locked away? The horrors I have seen in the last week are enough to last me all eternity and I don't need you all bothering me about being sensitive. It's a lot of nonsense," I finished smoothly.

"You'll forget how to use it," he muttered at me. "The whole principle of being a Blade is that we do love- it is a love for our emperor, granted, but without it we are less than whole. We cannot perform our duties with the proper amount of sincerity and truth."

"I'm using it," I smiled painfully. "And I love the emperor as much as you do. But I have a job to do and if I let anything- even my feelings- get in the way of my focus, all will be lost. Now leave me be on the matter, please?"

It was the most I'd ever said about myself to one person in a long time, but it seemed to appease Arcturus. He sighed and put a hand on my shoulder.

"I know you are as dedicated as anyone of us. Just…please remember that you are one of us now, too. You are a Blade and our sister in arms. We are here for you if you need us," he said softly.

I looked out the door of the small stone hut to see the first flakes of a new snowfall filtering down through the air to land on the courtyard paving stones. They stuck to the ground quietly- as I should. I nodded, placed my own hand over his and gave it a quick squeeze before removing myself from the small space. I could feel his eyes on me as I left, just as with Martin.

Making my way to the barracks, I let my thoughts wander once more. There was much to ponder this night.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at an Oblivion fanfic; I've had the idea rattling around for a while, but I don't know if I'll continue or not. I already have so many other projects! Well, let me know if you want more of it- it's not strictly romance, of course- but I'm a girl and I play girl characters. There's no helping some fluff seeping in around the edges. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

The light was too bright for what I was trying to do. I turned around to shush the man with me. Why _anyone _was with me made no sense. This was dangerous territory and I needed to be focused entirely on what was ahead, not worrying about who was behind me. But the face that stared back at me, the face that belonged to the body holding the lantern, was not any one I was expecting. Martin was looking at me strangely. _Martin_? Here in the small town of Hackdirt? What was _wrong_ with the man?

I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or bothered. That he was with me was perfectly nice, yes, but the man had no skills to speak of. I'd spend more time protecting him than saving Dar-Ma, which is exactly what I was down here in these caverns doing. These caverns…I heard a shout from in front of me and whipped back around. One of the Brethren was rushing at me, a club held high over his head. I acted swiftly, cutting him down, running my sword through him. His eyes, ever unblinking, widened even more and he fell from my blade, dead. I felt, rather than heard, the disgust of the man behind me and turned back around.

"Martin, if you don't like it, why are you here? I have to kill them or be killed!" the words flew from my mouth even as I realized that Martin's image was shifting, shimmering…changing. I watched in horror as his eyes grew larger, his robes melting away, and the lantern in his hands became a large, spiked club. I felt horror and revulsion fill me and raised my sword against him.

But even as I knew it had never been Martin, my friend and supporter, standing there behind me, I hesitated. I knew his initial disgust at my actions was only fair- in killing these monsters, had I too become what I feared?

That pause of only a few seconds was what he needed and I was struck down before I could move. I could hear Dar-Ma somewhere deep in the caverns, howling in agony. Was this it? Was I dying, cut down by a crazed cultist after all of the greater horrors I had faced; dealt the death blow by someone, _something_, not even worth saving? I felt tears of pain welling in my eyes and fought them back- no, I was a Nord of Skyrim, a blood sister of the Skaal- I would die with dignity and not fear.

Suddenly a hand touched my shoulder as I lay there, bleeding. I was astonished I could even still feel anything. But the hand was there and it began shaking me gently. The voice belonging to it began to call my name, softly. I struggled to open my eyes and glimpsed Martin's concerned face. Wait- hadn't he just vanished? Wasn't he a figment of my imagination? That face I had seen just before I was struck? He wasn't truly here, was he? Shame stole over me. He needed to leave- if he was truly here, he needed to flee and save himself.

"Let me die," I begged. "Leave me and let me die!"

The concern was replaced with a grim smile. "You are not dying, Katherine," he murmured, lifting the lantern high over his head, casting more light upon my face. I put my hands out to push him from me and miraculously, they touched clothing: flesh and blood. I choked back a scream of horror. No! So this was real…I had thought, hoped, for a moment that I was dreaming, that I would wake at any moment.

"You must go! The Brethren-," I was gasping for breath now and my head ached terribly. I felt like I was being burned alive in my own skin. Was I dying? Or was I becoming one of _them?_ My hands shook as I held to his robe, desperate to make him understand. "It is too late for Dar-Ma, I can hear her howling- she will be- she will…be…," I stopped as I felt fatigue overtake me and the pounding of my head grew to be too much. I could no longer keep my eyes open.

I felt Martin put his hand over one of mine to make me let go of his robe front and heard his sharp intake of breath. His hand felt cool against my own skin and I sighed with the brief relief that accompanied the feeling. The agony of the pain and burning was growing with each moment. What was happening to me? It felt like nothing I'd ever known…in those moments, I truly believed I was dying.

I heard Martin's voice, calling to someone else. What was that? Had help arrived? Would Dar-Ma be saved after all? What of Martin?

"Caroline!" he called, his voice full of…_anguish?_ What was wrong? Was he alright?

"Martin," I mumbled, and my hands suddenly lost their grip. I could no longer feel them and they fell limply at my sides.

"Caroline, Fortis, anyone!" he called again. I heard footsteps come running. "She has a fever- it must be running very high, she's hallucinating- speaking nonsense," he spoke in a low, but pained voice to whoever was with him. I moved my head back and forth a bit, my eyes fluttering wildly, trying desperately to open them once more. I had to know- I had to _know_ what was going on.

I heard another voice, although with every passing second the voices, as with the lights, grew dimmer.

"No- it's not nonsense, Emperor. She's reliving something…but you're right, she's ill. I'll get Jauffre- he has the most medical training of any of us."

Footsteps again, quick and light. More voices, but it was hard to distinguish them now. I was confused, upset. How could everyone be here? How had they known where to find me? I shuddered and moaned. No, they…must…I didn't finish my thought because in that moment the world darkened for one last painful minute before I slipped into unconsciousness.

A small, worried plea was the last thing I heard. He said my name softly- near my ear.

"_Katherine,_" he begged, "_sleep now_."

I felt something cool upon my head and a soothing hand against my cheek. My final protests died upon my lips. Was this the end? A moment more and I was lost to total, inky blackness that filled my mind completely.

* * *

A hand on my shoulder and the murmur of low voices caught my mind from its unpleasant dreamless sleep. I opened one eye slowly, then both as I discovered I was safely in the barracks of Cloud Ruler Temple. I lifted a hand to my face, my head. There was a dull ache in my brow, rattling around right behind my forehead and I winced as I touch my skin. It felt cool and damp. My hand dropped down again weakly and I took a deep, shuddering breath. What had _happened _last night? I thought I remembered a strange, mixed up dream about Hackdirt and Martin…I'd thought I was dying, the pain had been so great. Had it been a dream at all? I shook my head and felt pain shoot through my head once more.

Oh, moving too much was a bad idea, apparently. But still…that dream. Had it been real? I examined it more closely. Dar-Ma had died in my dream…and the Blades…had they come to save me? No. I smiled weakly, wryly. That wasn't what had happened there. I had slaughtered the town members, every one of them in my desperate ploy to save the Argonian girl. And save her I had. So I had been dreaming after all…I tried to turn my head again and the pain struck once more. I hissed at its dying fervor.

"She's doing better," I heard Jauffre's voice clearly- too clearly.

I coughed and tried to speak. My voice was raspy. "Too…loud," I managed. I heard laughter and suddenly Jauffre's face was in my line of vision. "I'm sorry, Katherine. I'll speak more softly," he murmured, as if he were whispering. I answered his smile with a relieved one of my own and mouth _thank you_.

"Well, we are glad to see you're awake," he went on. "You were out for three days with that fever."

Shock coursed through me, chasing the remaining pain away and I tried to sit but was too weak. As I struggled to my elbows, I felt a hand on my other shoulder, pushing me back down.

"You're still too weak for that. You need at least another day recovering before you can do anything," Caroline's soft voice said from beside me. I sighed and let them push me back down to the bedroll.

"So-," I tried speaking again. "I've been sick?"

"Very," replied Caroline. "The emperor was extremely worried. He'll be glad you're awake. Would you like some food?"

I felt Jauffre shift and stand. "I'll leave now," he said. "But I'll be back I another hour to see how you're feeling," he finished. I heard his footsteps move away and a door opened and closed somewhere. I tried to turn my attention to Caroline. The pain was lessened now. I began struggling up again.

"Help me," I croaked. She stared at me and shook her head.

"Caroline," I commanded, my voice harsh and hoarse. "Help me up. I don't have time to waste recovering. I must go see Martin. Once I eat I'll feel better," I promised. "But I must get up."

Her face hardened and she finally nodded, hitching one of my arms around her shoulders and helping me rise on one fluid motion. I was still weak, but I managed to stand, leaning gently against a chair. She left me to grab some of my clothing- a burgundy and black gown- and returned with it.

"Put this on- I'll help you. You need to stay warm. The aftermath of the fever has left you dehydrated and shivering." I let her help me and waited patiently as she laced up the back of the dress. She was right and I felt better- warmer, more human with it on. She placed a bowl of water before me and again helped me wash my face and neck.

"The emperor is sleeping, I believe," she said as she ran a comb briefly through my short hair. "you'll find him in his quarters. Go eat something first."

I nodded and thanked her as I made my way independently and shakily from the barracks to the kitchen. There was no one in the small room, which I was grateful for. I was sure I looked a mess, even with the minimal washing and dressing. My hands shook as I put some fruits upon my plate and tore some bread from a loaf. As I sat to eat, a door opened from down the stairs. I didn't turn around, but I could hear the heavy clanking of boots upon the wooden plank floor. Whoever it was took another plate from the shelf and I heard them rustle through some grain sacks. I turned in my seat somewhat and saw the broad shoulders of Roliand, the only other Nord in residence. He turned, his plate full with meats, cheeses and assorted breads and grains. He grinned when he saw me.

"Lass!" his voice boomed in the small space and I cringed inwardly. My head was better, but not cured. He laughed and took a seat across from me where I worked quietly at an apple.

"It's good to see you up and about- eating, too. That's a good sign, Lass." I smiled at him in return; the man never called me by my name. He seemed to think of me as his little sister, which was alright with me. I liked Roliand- he reminded me of my uncles in Skyrim. Tough and strong, broad of chest and generous of heart. The thought made my smile wider. And Arcturus thought we Nords didn't have a loving bone in our bodies. I had never known a Nord male who _wasn't _free with his feelings. Nord women, of course, were another matter entirely.

He noticed my answering grin and laughed again. "You seem happy as well; that's good. If I had to see that frowning face of yours one more day I'd toss you to the wolves."

I laughed then, putting down the knife and apple I'd been at. I reached for my cup of water and Roliand frowned.

"What's that? Water? Lass, you need ale. Water won't warm those bones of yours." He shoved his own mug at me and stood to fetch himself another. He spoke to me as he did.

"You were out for several days, so you don't know what's been happening. We were worried about you, there's no doubting that. Emperor Martin barely slept himself- your illness seemed to throw him into a fit of research. He's resting now, but I know you'll want to see him soon. There's rumors of what he's discovered. Jauffre mentioned it to us in passing, although Captain Steffan warned us not to speak of it." He sat back down and noticed I still hadn't drunk of the ale yet. "Drink, Lass!" I grimaced and took a hurried sip. The pale liquid burned its way down my throat. As sour as it tasted, he was right and it warmed me.

He smiled in satisfaction and took a swig himself. "Sancre Tor," he continued, "is not a very nice place. It was overrun by demons and necromancy long ago. But according to Jauffre, that's where you'll need to go next, although the man is hard put to decide which mission he wants you to take care of first. Bruma needs allies desperately." He drained his mug and tore into a piece of mutton. He continued to speak around the food.

"Now, Lass. I shouldn't have told you that, but you deserve some straight answers and advanced warning. I have as much faith in you, if not more than the rest of these pansies, but even a good Nordic warrior needs information every now and again, eh?" He chortled around the food in his mouth and I laughed with him.

"Thank you, Roliand. I appreciate it," I replied, returning to my own food. Caroline was right, as Roliand had been. With the food, ale and news, I was feeling better and better. I finished as quickly as I could and stood up. Roliand looked up from the remainder of his meal and let out a low whistle. I turned back around quickly.

"What?" I asked, crouching down, ready for action. I straightened when he shook his head. He was staring intently at me and finally shook his head, his eyes sparking with curiosity. I looked down at myself. Was there something on my dress? I knew it wasn't normal for me to wear one, but my trousers were filthy from my mission several days ago. Should I have borrowed some?

"Nothing, Lass," he reassured. I nodded, still uncertain, and turned to leave once more. I could hear his chuckle behind me as I shut the door and headed for Martin's quarters. _Men, _I thought. _I'll never understand them, no matter how Nordic they are._

* * *

There was a guard posted outside his room, but he moved aside as soon as he saw me. Apparently Martin had given orders for me to be let through. I nodded my thanks and slipped past the man, closing the door behind me.

Martin was lying on his side, fast asleep from what I could see. His back was truned towards the door- a foolish move on his part, I noted, annoyed with him. Didn't the man have any common sense? Mehrunes Dagon himself was after this man and Martin didn't have sense enough to sleep with a sword by his side and facing the bloody door! Honestly. I _truly _did not understand men. This one in particular.

I moved forward quietly, still somewhat cautious upon my feet. My hand had barely touched Martin's shoulder before he shifted and raised his head, blinking wearily. Hmm. Perhaps he was more of a light sleeper than I'd thought. I smiled gently at him.

His eyes registered my face and he rolled over, swinging his legs to the floor. "Katherine," he murmured, standing. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You are not well yet- you should still be in bed, resting-," he began, but I cut him off.

"No, Martin," I replied, waving his hand off. I was surprisingly uncomfortable with the thought of him touching me. "I'm feeling much better. The worst possible thing for me to do right now would be to remain here, inactive and useless. Now what is it you want me to do next? Perhaps if I'd never stayed and just gone onto the next thing I would've fought my way through it and been back here already. My immune system always collapses when I take time to rest. Now talk, I've wasted enough time as it is!"

If he was surprised by the vehemence of my words and the implicit blame that accompanied them, Martin gave no sign of it. Instead, he mutely took in my appearance and then gestured for me to sit. He walked around to a bookshelf, gathering some scrolls. Placing them on the bed in front of me, he rolled one of them out. Before he began his explanation, however, he turned to speak to me in a quiet voice.

"I understand you're upset at the lost time, Katherine, but that could not be helped. I see now how ragged we've run you with these constant missions and I should have insisted upon your resting more often. I can't accomplish this without you, but I also can't accomplish it if you're not well."

The implication hit me in the gut and I felt blood rush to my cheeks. My eyes sparked dangerously for a moment before I bridled the emotions in. Martin watched me carefully and seemed almost happy to see the signs of feeling in me.

"I hope you're not thinking of finding someone else to help you with this," I hissed, unable to keep the anger from flooding out somewhere.

He shook his head. "Not at all, I just wanted you to know that I expect you to take more care. Stop and rest if you get weary; make sure you eat on your journeys. The road is a hazardous enough place without added illness- and you aren't always on a road." He paused, eyeing me, seemingly deciding whether or not to give me extra information. Finally he spoke again.

"Katherine, I know you are upset, but please understand my feelings in this. You were very far gone by the time anyone realized you were even ill- you hide many things well, it seems. It took all of Jauffre's efforts to save you."

I looked away from his eyes, the heat in my cheeks fading. So…what was this? What did he mean? I looked back up to him from where I sat on the edge of his bed. He was still watching me, waiting for a response.

"I dreamed I was dying," I whispered. "That's all I can recall of that night."

He nodded, apparently pleased with my response. "You nearly did," he replied, his voice calm, but an underlying emotion playing across his face. I stared at him, trying to determine what it was. Surely he didn't- surely he couldn't…I was the only one who cared that way. I was nothing more than a champion and friend to him, right?

I pulled my eyes from his face suddenly and felt heat pool in my cheeks once more. The iron curtain came down with difficulty. It seemed I was more vulnerable the weaker with illness I was. Hmm. I had another good reason to stay healthy, it appeared. I sighed and turned back to the maps and scrolls.

Martin was looking to them again as well and whatever moment we had just shared had passed swiftly. He began speaking and pointing things out on the scroll before me. I nodded and paid as close attention as I could, but the effort of keeping the curtain down was wearing on me. After what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes, Martin turned to me again and rolled up another scroll, handing it to me.

"A map. And you'll need to speak with Jauffre for more details and the key to the fort."

I took the map carefully and got up, preparing to leave. He lay a hand on my arm, stopping me.

"Katherine," he began, but I smiled and didn't let him finish. I _couldn't _let him finish that sentence. Ever.

"I'll be fine, Martin," I promised. "I'll see you in a few days."

Then I was out the door, leaving him staring after me just as before, my velvet skirts rustling about my legs.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

After speaking briefly with Jauffre, I returned to the barracks. It was true; Martin had been more than right. I did need more rest. Besides, it wasn't even one in the morning yet. I could get in a few more hours of sleep and still be up and gone before dawn. Before Martin was awake and would insist on speaking to me one last time.

My thoughts wandered to his face, his voice even as I forced the curtain down further. He was concerned; he cared for me. That much was evident. But…why? I was not at all right for a man of his stature…at least, I thought not. No, not even men such as Roliand or Arcturus were the kind that sought me out; except for the occasional drink or roll in the proverbial hay. No, I laughed at myself- Martin might care, but as a friend. Anything else, I had imagined. Entering the barracks I lay down swiftly and quietly upon one of the bedrolls and put my head to the pillow.

I needed to sleep. There was fighting and negotiating to do tomorrow, even with the long ride. I needed not only sleep, but clarity of mind in order to plan my course of action.

I thrust Martin and his kindness from my thoughts. Darkness overcame my already weary mind. I slept.

I woke well before dawn. While I had not slept much, it had been long enough to ensure I felt rested and the pain in my head was completely gone. I rose and dressed quickly- my normal travel clothes had been washed and lay next to my bedroll. I changed, but packed a gown as well. I had a hunch that some of the city officials I was going to speak with would prefer speaking to a well dressed woman than a bloodied champion.

Once my pack was full and I had added some provisions, I snuck from the living quarters. The only Blade I encountered was Pelagius, who simply nodded at me on my way down the stone steps to the great doors.

With a great heave I opened them and stepped out in the fresh mountain air. Its brisk chill assaulted my person and I immediately dug out my traveling cloak, throwing it over the cold armor I wore. That would help, at least. Putting the hood up, I went over to where Prior Maborel's horse was tethered. The intelligent beast looked up from his sleep and snorted at me sleepily. I tugged a carrot from my hip boot and put it on my palm for him. The paint pony whuffed at it a few times before he began to gently lip it from my hand. I smiled and put my other hand to his mane, running my hand gently down his neck, reassuring him.

After his breakfast, Lore seemed more awake so I tugged the blanket from his shoulders and, after folding it and setting it aside, tied my pack to his saddle and mounted. Clucking with my tongue, I nudged him into a gentle trot down the mountain. Even as we made our way down the trail, I thought I heard someone's voice. I turned in my seat and looked back. Was that Martin I heard calling me? After a few second's pause and the shouting hadn't started up again, I shrugged and turned back around, urging Lore forward once more.

Even if it was Martin, it was too late for last minute remonstrances or requests. I had two jobs to do and many miles to cover. I could not think on him while I was out fighting. It was too dangerous for my methods and my work. No one could know what I was doing or what I was thinking.

I closed the curtain with great ease that morning. We continued down the mountain.

* * *

I had a plan of attack, so to speak. I wanted to accomplish Jauffre's mission first, as I was sure it would take the most time, and then complete the mission at Sancre Tor before returning to Cloud Ruler. I had decided to circle Cyrodiil, starting with the Eastern most city, Cheydinhal, then directly South to Leyawiin. From there I'd take the road North to Bravil and the Imperial City, then West to Skingrad, Kvatch and Anvil. After that I wanted to cut across the mountains to Chorrol and somewhere between Chorrol and Cloud Ruler Temple was Sancre Tor. I felt confident in my route, but unsure of the mission itself. No doubt aid for Bruma would come at a cost. The only question left was, how high?

Lore must have sensed my nervousness because he pranced uneasily sideways. I shifted in my saddle and leaned forward, stroking his neck and soothing comforting words. He responded well and calmed down. I had to admit, although I liked the beast and enjoyed his company, riding horses was one thing I would never grow used to. We'd had no use for them as traveling aside from using them to haul goods. No, in Skyrim they made good work animals and companions, but not for something to ride on and be prized except for their strength and durability. When Jauffre had first offered the dead prior's horse to me after the attacks, I'd been hesitant. What could a little paint pony do? But he had proven his worth, alright. I stroked his neck again and he whinnied in response, tossing his head proudly. Yes, he was a good animal.

"Come on, Lore," I murmured to him. I enjoyed talking to him now- after all, he was my only companion for days at a time and besides that, I was sure he understood me. "Let's go to Cheydinhal."

So the next stage of my journey began.

The ride to Cheydinhal went fairly uneventfully, aside from the occasional highwayman and bandit camp. Those I searched out and destroyed with relish. It was bloodthirsty of me, I know, but I didn't see a reason for them to continue living. They were only adding an extra element of fear to an already terror filled existence. I wanted them dead; the people of Cyrodiil and the Imperials wanted them dead- so I did everyone a favor. It was good practice for my blade.

I was just putting away my blade again when I heard shouting in the distance. Lore whinnied and I looked up to the sky. It was red and filled with dark clouds. Damn. Another Oblivion gate. I tied Lore to a tree and raced across the field. It was safer for my horse to be as far from those gates as possible- the demons that spilled forth from the fiery maws did not distinguish between human or beast. They simply killed everything in sight.

As I neared the gate, I saw several men stationed behind a crude barrier several yards in front of it. They were shooting down anything that came through. I neared them cautiously. After Kvatch and the other gates I'd closed while on the road, I knew what I was doing around the blasted things. I moved closer with the hopes of offering my help. One of the soldiers whipped about at the sound of my voice.

"You there!" he shouted. "We're under strict orders not to let anyone near the gate- you need to leave here now!"

"Orders from who?" I asked, ignoring his warning, but not moving.

"The Knights of the Thorn are in there as we speak- they strictly asked we not send in back up."

"In _where_?" I was shocked, I had never heard of a town _without_ properly trained soldiers moving against one of the gates, let alone entering one.

The man looked at me in horror. "You mean you don't know about the gates?"

I stepped forward at that. "No, that's not what I meant," I tried to reassure him. "I know all about the gates. I've been inside a few myself."

"And you survived? Did you close them?" When he saw me nod he almost smiled. "Perhaps you can help us, then."

I listened closely as he explained the situation with the Knights of the Thorn. It wasn't surprising- the story of a bunch of egotistical, foppish braggarts was not a new one. And now it appeared that the son of the Duke of Cheydinhal had ordered his 'knights' into the gate after him without training or backup. And instead of his father sending in help, the man sat on his comfortable throne, waiting for an outsider to save the day. _Typical_. In that moment, I learned all I needed to about the duke and his son. Two selfish men who did what they wanted without thought to who got in the way. I suspected that the duke might even _want _his lying fool of a son to die inside the gate, because if the man wanted him rescued so badly, he'd surely send in reinforcements or a rescue party. I knew, without a doubt, that this was the role I would fill here in Cheydinhal. That much was not difficult to see. The only difficulty was in knowing how my efforts would be greeted. Would the duke be appreciative no matter what happened in there? I tended to think so. Still, I would do my best to save the idiots.

"I'll go," I offered without hesitation. The soldier stared at me in surprise.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded once and started towards the gate.

"Be careful!" the man called after me. "If you can, find proof of his death if he isn't alive. And please try to bring him back safely before closing the gate!"

I smirked to myself as I entered the gate, the fire blazing around me in one searing moment before I crossed through the portal. Bring him back before closing the gate? More likely he was already dead and if he wasn't…the odds were that with the kind of stupidity he'd shown already, the boy wouldn't listen to me and would refuse to leave if he was alive.

* * *

As I arrived on the plan of Oblivion, I swiftly threw up my invisibility spell. I didn't have many useful spells, but that was one of them. I crouched down and made my self undetectable as I calculated my next move. So, there were seven originally…but at least two or three would have died, I was sure of it. The others would no doubt be severely injured. Hmm. Perhaps I could cast a spell of command and order them to leave? If any at all stayed, it would only slow me down. And I preferred to work as quickly as possible.

As far as warriors fit for fighting in Oblivion went, I was in the top tier, I knew. Otherwise the Blades wouldn't be relying on me so much. But even then, the only reason I was so successful was because I _did _work alone. Other people only slowed me down, and speed was of the essence in Oblivion. _Damn. This might be more difficult than I thought. _And then, although I felt bad about wishing such ill fortune for another, I prayed that most of them would be dead.

I moved forward slowly in order to take stock of what I was up against. I could see a massive mountain of rock that seemed to stretch away and down. Ahead of me, a few imps were roaming about. Rather than waste my energy fighting them, I slipped past without a sound. They were far enough away that they did not see or smell me, for which I was grateful. If I wanted to save anyone left in this hell hole with me, I'd need to conserve my healing powers and potions to use on the idiots who had entered already.

I moved as quickly as I dared along the path that circled the mountain- if that's what it was. Every now and again a rockslide surprised me and I had to spring forward. I never moved back from a rockslide, because usually they were triggered by my moving across a certain point in the path. It made no sense to repeat the move and risk injury twice. I had learned that trick the hard way in another gate on the road between Chorrol and the Imperial City. After avoiding another slide, an imp's angry fireball took me by surprise. It hit my shoulder in passing and I went down, rolling out of range behind a large boulder. Damn imps. I hated the things more than most other demons and dremora. They were deliberately malicious creatures, unlike some of the larger, more stupid beasts.

I put a hand to the hilt of my sword and raised my left hand. I leapt from behind the boulder and cast my own fireball back at the scamp. It danced about idiotically and my flame hit home. The monster howled once before falling down dead. There went my invisibility. I sighed and crouched down once more before continuing forward. Ah well, I'd have to do the best I could with sneaking. I put both hands to the hilt of my sword and drew it as I picked up speed. Now that they would be more easily alerted to my presence, it was best if I kept my weapon ready at all times. As I moved deeper along the mountain trail, I came across my first body.

I felt a shudder of horrified relief pass through me. Well, a quick death was the best kind. I was glad the man hadn't had to endure more horrors. I moved past him quickly and mentally ticked off one knight from the list in my head. A door loomed up ahead, buried in the side of the rocks. So…there were caverns to be endured. I drew a deep breath and entered without looking back, only wishfully envious of the dead man behind me.

The poor bastard.

Almost as soon as I entered the cavern, I had to be on my guard. I kept my sword out in front of me and crouched low. I could barely make out a clannfear a few yards away from me. It was too dark in the hot space to make out much more. I quickly fired off a few fireballs in its direction and blessedly heard it squeal as it slumped to the stone floor, dead. I knew that not all my kills would be that easy, but I was prepared for in fighting as well, so I tried not to let it worry me.

Although the climate was vastly different, there remained many similarities between Oblivion and my home on Solstheim. Dark, stifling underground caverns and tombs…unexpected wells of inhospitable liquids- on Solstheim it had been ice water- and monsters ready to sniff you out and attack at any moment. Some even took more than one death to kill. The clannfears were especially bad about staying down, but as I passed the one I'd just hit I could tell I'd finished it off.

I gave up on reminiscing and moved steadily further into the cave. I passed a fleshy pod strung from the ceiling and shuddered. I didn't stop to take whatever might be inside- I knew the price someone had paid in order for the hideous pouch to exist. Whatever money might be inside would feel dirty. It would be blood money and I refused to pilfer such filthy gold and goods. There were some who had heard me say that who protested my belief vigorously. I stuck to it anyway. I didn't want a thing these disgusting planes could offer me. It was bad enough, all the enemies one had as a human, in our own world. To heap more punishment on top of that with this new threat…it was unfair and unjust.

And I was determined to put a stop to it. I carried on in my quest, dispatching the occasional scamp until I reached another door set low in the wall. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and opened it. So far, no more bodies. I was desperately aware how dire my situation looked at that point.

If I'd known how to pray or cared much, I might have at that moment. As it was, I hated myself while hoping for the discovery of more bodies and swiftly exited the cavern.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4 Warning Lemon

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

**Author's Note: First, I apologize for getting it wrong in the last chapter- I realize it's the _count_ of Cheydinhal and not _duke_.**

**Second, this is the first sexy chapter. Yes, that means there is a sex scene. If you are pure of heart, feel free to skip it- my feelings won't be hurt, I promise.**

* * *

Hacking my way past some Harrada root, I finally came into a clearing. Just ahead I could see what appeared to be two soldiers standing before a bridge that stretched out across the lava. So…were these the last survivors? I had found four more bodies once I'd traveled through the rest of the caverns and made my way this far down the mountain, so it tallied up correctly. 

Two men. I considered the odds in my mind as I approached them slowly. This was possibly doable. Yes, as long as they stayed well behind me I could probably get them through the tower safely enough. They'd need a great deal of healing, no doubt, but it was likely at least one of them was a good warrior, if they had made it this far alive. I took stock of the men before me and finally stood straight, coming out of hiding. The dark elf spotted me immediately and ran towards me, shouting something. The fool! He needed to keep his voice down!

My eyes scanned the bridge and I could see some shadowy figures moving around on it. Well, perhaps they weren't interested…yet. I moved towards the idiot and sheathed my sword. _This must be Farwil, Count Indarys' son. _I sized him up quickly- he wasn't in bad condition, for a fop, but he'd obviously seen some battle recently and his eyes were glazed with barely controlled panic and hysteria. I wondered- and immediately told myself to shut up- what would happen if I pushed him over that edge. Either way, he wouldn't be of much use, I could see. I looked past him, ignoring his impassioned storytelling to where his companion stood. The man was an Imperial…he looked tougher, stronger. I smiled. This must be the real fighter of the two. I nodded impatiently at Farwil's story and then headed towards the head of the bridge, determined to speak with the other man.

He introduced himself with a soft voice. I grinned to myself inwardly. No wonder this Bremman Senyan was with Farwil and his ridiculous knights. He probably styled himself a fighter and a lover. I felt a twinge of excitement grab my lower belly and put a hand on the hilt of my sword. Well. There would be plenty of time to discover if he was right about himself later- as long as we all escaped safely…and alive.

"If only Farwil had let us come with a larger contingent; had he accepted the support of the town guard, we may have actually stood a chance. But don't blame him…he doesn't always realize what he is doing."

I repressed the urge to snort at Bremman's estimation of his friend and only nodded stonily. _So what are you saying…that he's mentally retarded?_ I stifled my own laughter and looked out over the bridge. I could see four daedra…were they dremora? That would not be good. I drew my sword and hefted it easily in one hand. It seemed I would need to keep one hand free in order to fireball the enemies and weaken them before hand. That seemed the best bet for keeping the two men safe…as long as they remained behind me. I turned to hiss instructions at them, but Farwil only stared back with those bright, red eyes tinged with insanity.

"We must hurry and close the gate! Forward- on to victory!" was all he would say and I could see he was chomping at the bit to move onward. The man refused to be led back to safety, not that I could blame him. Now that I was this far into the plane, I too wanted only to move on and end the misery. I shared a look with Bremman, who could only shake his head sadly. The man refused to betray his so called leader. I wasn't sure if that blind loyalty was a good thing or not, but I supposed that it would not be looked upon kindly if we did not carry the Count's son home to safety. I looked out over the bridge again. I could see that one of the dremora had moved closer and I sucked in my breath. They were onto us and now the real battle would begin.

* * *

I was the first over the barrier and onto the bridge. Almost as soon as my feet hit the stone, I heard a roar of anger. I immediately began delivering fireballs down the concourse and was pleased when I heard answering calls of dying dremora. I checked to make sure that Farwil and Bremman were following and then ran forward. Had I gotten them all? My inquiry was answered as a thunderbolt hit me in the side, knocking me to the ground. I rolled into a crouch and glanced around for the dremora I'd obviously missed only to be hit in the shoulder with another blade. I was on my feet in a flash, despite the pain in my side, and took out the rogue monster with a mighty blow to his head. He went down in a heap and I looked up in time to see Farwil doing battle with another creature. Fortunately, Bremman dispatched the monster quickly and they ran over to me. I could see the concern on the Imperial's face and shook my head, gesturing at the door. 

"Come, there's no time to dally. It will only get worse from here now they know we're coming."

The man nodded once and I pressed a hand to my side. It wasn't bleeding, fortunately. My steel cuirass was doing its job well. I'd had it enchanted against shock and fire a few days previous in Chorrol, the same day I'd bought my house and discovered that Dar-Ma was missing…well. Enough reminiscing. I wasn't badly injured enough to require healing and the day was getting long, if one could even tell how time passed in such a place.

I plugged onward and we reached the great door with no more incident. Farwil's eyes, however, seemed more crazy than before. I swore under my breath. The elf was going to get himself killed in here, I had a feeling. Bremman stood beside me, looking up at the door. Although there was fear in his eyes as well, I could see courage too. Together, we pushed the door open and entered the main tower.

We had only a moment before they realized we were there and I ran forward a few steps, summoning several higher level fireballs and sending them across the room. I was rewarded with three- no, four screams of pain and anger and then silence. Farwil said nothing, but Bremman stared at me, impressed. I glared at them both.

"Don't just stand there- follow me!" I shouted. I knew I couldn't keep summoning fire like that without needing to rest and replenish my magicka, but I was driven by a force greater than myself, by the desperate desire to clean out the scum and close the gate before anyone else got hurt. I _hated _Mehrunes Dagon in that moment. Because of my irrational desire to get the job done as quickly as possible I was endangering the lives of these two men. I paused outside the door into the citadel and drew a flask from the pouch at my waist. Should I use it now, when I knew I had plenty of magicka left, or later, when I was almost depleted? I was unsure of my course of action. Farwil made an impatient noise and I almost turned on him, ready to scream with frustration. _It's not my fault you are a useless idiot and piss poor excuse for a knight! If I didn't need to concern myself with your safety we could already be out of here! _I wanted to yell at him. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. It belonged to the other man, Bremman, and I could tell he was trying to encourage and calm me. I took a deep breath before shaking the hand from my shoulder. I put the flask away. _Later_, I told myself.

We entered the citadel swiftly and dispatched five more creatures. Then it was onto the next circular ramp, where four more were killed before we reached the third door back into the citadel. I could feel my heart racing. It was getting harder to control Farwil's actions. He was running past me to attack the dremora and daedra every chance he got, which meant I could no longer use my fireballs- it was too risky and I could accidentally hit Farwil. I knew one hit from my magic and he would be gone. But relying on swords was not enough either. Farwil kept getting in my way and, although I'm sure he didn't mean to, so did Bremman. The man would jump after the Count's son in order to help him battle, making it more difficult for me to dispatch the monsters quickly. I could tell Farwil was taking a lot of damage and injury, for which I had to use the rest of my magicka reserves to heal him. I'd already drunk my last flask of restorative potion and I knew that if we did not make it to the inner sanctum soon, Farwil, and possibly Bremman, would be goners. Lost in my thoughts, I moved to the last door standing between us and closing the damned gate.

That was when it happened.

There was a flash of thunder and a strangled cry. I turned to look behind me only to see Farwil's broken body lying on the cold stone ramp, slowly sliding down, past the frozen figure of Bremman. His friend and follower stared down at the body, a look of horror and grief upon his face. I sprang into action, seeing the body getting ready to fall over the edge of the precipice.

"Bremman!" I yelled. "Don't let him fall!" He looked up at the sound of my voice, his eyes widening, and then he to, jumped into action, reaching for the body and pulling it back to safety.

I whipped about as a thunder strike hit the rock wall beside me and realized what had happened. We had missed the gate keeper, who was now running at me with furious speed. I let out a mighty roar and met him, sword to mace, on that penultimate platform. How could this have happened? After all my efforts, after depleting my stores almost entirely just to save one _stupid, worthless _dark elf, he had gotten himself killed by a miserable excuse for a humanoid. The kynreeve laughed as his weapon clashed with mine. My hood fell back to reveal my face and his evil grin grew wider.

"So…a woman has come to challenge the Sigil Keeper," he hissed in his terrible voice. "You won't get far with us. I wonder if you'd like to stay a while?"

I growled at him and thrust him off. "Scum!" I muttered. "Thanks, but it's a bit warm for me here. Not my idea of a nice vacation spot."

Our weapons crashed together again and I thrust him off more easily this time. He seemed infuriated by that and raised his mace over his head. "If you will not stay, you must die!"

"You'd kill me anyway, you filth!" I shouted back at him, crouching low, waiting for him to spring. Then I saw my chance- it was a risk, this close to Bremman, but I flashed my hand quickly and the fireball struck home before my companion drew anywhere near. Shock registered on the gate keeper's face and he howled in pain before crumpling to the floor. I ran over and took extra stabs at his body, my tired arms hacking at him over and over. I was sick with fear and I knew it. I heard someone calling my name and paused in my efforts.

His arms were around me before I could respond. I struggled against him briefly before allowing myself to go slack in his embrace, lowering my sword with one shaky hand.

"He's dead," he kept saying. I could only nod mutely. Whether he was talking about Farwil or the dremora, I didn't know. I only knew it wasn't yet over. We had the sanctum to cover before we could retrieve the sigil stone and leave in safety.

"Did you retrieve his ring?' I finally asked, my face buried in the folds of his cuirass. I heard him sigh and he nodded in affirmation. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

He pulled away and held me at arms length, shaking his head sadly. "Don't be, please. There was nothing you could truly do for him. Farwil was too far gone to help-," he ended, but I could see the pain in his eyes. He stared back at me, his face full of questions. I realized that we were drawing nearer to one another once more and almost welcomed the distraction.

My lips sought his out readily and he closed his mouth over mine as if he was afraid he'd never taste a woman's mouth again. He put a hand to my chin and tugged it down, opening my mouth and forcing his tongue inside so that it caressed mine. I clung to him like he was the air around me, as if I had not just seen a man struck down before me. I could feel him trembling with the effort not to overwhelm me and yet I knew he wanted this kiss desperately…he wanted more. It felt like minutes before he pulled away, panting for breath, an ashamed look upon his face. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was alright and I was as much at fault as he was, but he turned away from me and looked back up the long and winding ramp.

"We should continue," he finally spoke in a gruff voice. He stayed turned away from me and I feared he was disgusted by me, by our shared behavior. I looked to him one last time before moving onward, but he still would not face me. It was only once I was safely in front of him that I could feel his eyes boring into my back.

After the encounter on that final stretch of ramp, the sanctum was almost easy too deal with. I used the last of my magicka in a terrific storm of fireballs and Bremman and I were able to make it to the stone in relative safety. I looked back to him once before reaching out my hand and taking it. He still refused to look at me. I turned away and stuck my hand into the fire determinedly. _Fine. I prefer being alone anyhow. _

Then I closed my hand around the glowing orb and the world began to shake around us.

* * *

The castle at Cheydinhal was surrounded by plants- trees, flowering shrubs, vines. I could see where the Count's dark elf heritage showed itself. His love of the green and growing was obvious. As I waited in the main throne room for the man to appear, I let my thoughts wander back to Bremman. The knight had been kind enough to thank me once we had arrived back in the field outside the city, but he had begged me not to think ill of poor, pathetic Farwil. I sighed, angry with myself. I had just broken my promise. A grim smile spread across my face and I smoothed down the skirt of my velveteen gown. Well, I'd never been much good in the charitable thoughts department. 

He hadn't brought up our encounter in the tower. I wondered if I should say something to him. I worried how he was taking it- while it was natural in my culture to celebrate death with passion and wine and song, I knew that Imperials and others did not view it the same way. I recalled the feel of his lips upon mine. They had been heated and soft, demanding a response that I was appalled I seemed all too willing to give. While it was not uncommon for me to partake of the simpler pleasures in life while traveling or in the midst of war, I knew my mission for the Blades was of great importance. I smiled to think of how Jauffre would react to my recreation. Still, hadn't Martin told me to take time to rest on my journey? And didn't my idea of resting include a warm bed with a warmer body in it?

I was pulled from my thoughts by the announcement of the Count. I watched carefully as the man walked around to his thrown and sat. So. This was Farwil's father. Best not to keep him waiting, then. I walked right up to him and knelt. He addressed me immediately.

"Ah, the champion who has closed the gate outside our picturesque city, we welcome you! You shall be greatly rewarded for your efforts. But come, what news of my son?"

I lifted my eyes to his and his face fell. "I see," he murmured. "No, no,' he hushed me when I tried to speak, "I understand. I am sure you did all you could to save him. Oh, my Farwil. He was young and foolish, but still my son. I thank you for trying to save him." He paused and wiped at his eyes graciously. "But here, you shall have a reward, still. The service you have done to my city will not go unnoticed."

A chest of coin was produced, and I smiled gratefully. Then I brought up the question of aid for Bruma. The count looked puzzled at first and then nodded with dawning comprehension. I mentioned the bravery of the Knights of the Thorn for good measure and the man beamed at me.

"You're right, of course. We will do what we can to help. I will send my bravest men to Bruma to help save this mysterious new heir and to help you keep Bruma safe, as you have done here, for us. I would not wish the fate of my beloved son on any other man," he finished quietly.

I left soon after procuring his promise of aid, my spirits lifted somewhat. Now, before I left, I had one last thing to deal with. I did not want to leave the issue between myself and Bremman unresolved. After allowing Farwil to die in such a manner, I felt it was the least I could do for his friend.

* * *

I entered the lodge quietly to find him sitting in front of the fire downstairs, staring ahead of himself with a bemused expression upon his face. He did not turn around as I entered, but called out to me. 

"Come sit with me if you have the time." It was a simple request and I wanted to apologize for earlier that day, in the gate, before I said my goodbyes and left town. So I adhered.

I took the seat across from him so that the fire did not play its light upon my face and I was instead hidden in shadows. He smiled grimly at me.

"Have you come to exact your vengeance for my misstep earlier?" he asked wryly, grimacing.

I shook my head. "That was not your fault-," I began, but he cut me off.

"It surely wasn't yours!"

"No, that is not what I meant," I continued, sighing. "The fault belongs to neither of us. I may be a Nordic warrior, but I am still a woman," I explained quietly. "That was not the first time I have seen a man cut down inside an Oblivion gate, but it was my mission to save him. I was very upset at his untimely death. Not only did I not complete the quest, but if I had been paying closer attention I could have stopped it from happening. I let myself get complacent too soon. And you have an even better reason for your desire to affirm life- you lost a friend and leader today in there, as well as several comrades." I leaned forward in my seat, earnest in my explanation. "Do not blame yourself for what is only natural in the heat of battle. Passion is a fitting answer to death."

He looked at me askew, trying to search out my feelings from the shadows. "You Nords have a strange idea of how to mourn death," he murmured. I pulled back and he continued, "But I can appreciate your meaning."

Bremman eyed me for several seconds more and I felt my heart beat loudly in my chest. Wildly. The curtain was gone suddenly and I felt, rather than saw, his two strong arms reach out and around me and crush me to him. His mouth found mine for the second time that day and this time, I quickly snaked my arms about his neck, unwilling to let him go again.

He pulled back from the kiss with a hiss of breath and a nervous laugh. "It wasn't only watching Farwil die, but it was seeing you battle the creature that cut him down. I was terrified of losing you as well. You have been my savior today," he whispered and I stared up into his face. I could only smile and renew the kiss with vigor. Let him think he was in love with his heroine. I didn't care what he thought, so long as he let me lay with him that night and get drunk on love making. I needed someone's arms about me desperately, so desperately that I knew I would cease to feel alive without that blessed release of human contact, of skin on burning skin.

His tongue danced with mine and quite suddenly he was tugging at the laces on my good dress, daring it to come off. I pulled his cuirass off and he chuckled at my strength and nimbleness of finger at untying the laces on his boots and greaves. We swiftly found ourselves in our under things and even then those too followed the way of our outer clothes, heaped in a mess upon the floor. Once we were naked, he held me to him for a moment as we relished in the feel of our skin against one another's: mine just a little cooler than his, although my eyes burned a bright green. He seemed entranced by me and quickly lay me down on the rug beneath us, his eyes asking a question as he placed himself carefully beside me.

I nodded and wrapped my arms about him once more. It seemed all the reply he needed. I did not care where we lay- location was not paramount to the act itself. He ran his mouth along my face and jaw, down my neck to my ear where he began whispering sweet nothings and flicking his tongue out at my lobe every few seconds. One hand found my breasts and began caressing them with a gentle intensity. I moaned and lifted under his hands, ready to give myself over to him, but he seemed intent on enjoying the moment. I could feel the uncertainty, the hesitation in my own response. This was not what I wanted- not this gentleness. It was neither what I deserved nor my desire. I kept the curtain from coming down and destroying my pleasure altogether, but determined to make him stop.

Growling, I rolled over on top of him and straddled his naked form, working my mouth at his lips and neck, taking small bites at his shoulders. He seemed surprised at my forwardness, but did not make any attempt to move me or to regain control of the situation. I leaned back from his face and smiled at him from beneath heavily fringed eyelids, practically purring as I took what I wanted. Now it was he who was giving himself over to me- and oh, what a glorious feeling it was. I sat up as I straddled him, teasing him with the nearness of my womanhood. I could feel his arousal beneath me and he groaned, letting his hands travel to my hips. Ah, yes, that was good response. The next time I lifted myself to tease him he used his hands to maneuver my hips and hold me in place. I looked down at him, my eyes a smoky olive and reflected in his own large brown eyes.

He kept me hovering there for a long moment, poised to take him but not moving a muscle except that I was quivering with excitement and desire the longer he kept out of me. I could feel him right there, his tip already at my entrance, soaked as I grew wet with excitement. I finally let out a small mewl of frustration and saw him smile at me in response- softly, knowingly- and then he brought me down upon him, thrusting up and into me quickly.

He filled me up and I let out the moan I had been holding back…this was it. There was nothing better. Then, even though I was perched atop his broad body, he took the lead. I let him, gladly, and tossed my head back in pleasure. It rarely mattered to me who it was…it could be a stranger at the local bar…a childhood friend…a fellow soldier; as long as he was kind and did not hurt me, I would let him be my lover for a night. They were much the same to me. I had not had a steady beau in some time, not since my girlhood, but I had discovered fairly quickly in my life of freelance adventuring that if I was tired or under too much stress that the only thing that made it better- the only thing that relaxed me and chased away the horrors of the day- was a good- I moaned again, unable to finish the thought.

I loved the feel of a man's body against mine, his skin taut and muscles stretched tight across his frame as he claimed me. To feel his skin against mine, to feel and see and smell our bodies' limbs and scents mingling…becoming one only to be thrown apart by a mighty crash of lightening again- I _lived_ for it. In those moments, I gave myself over to my feelings and emotions entirely in a way that I hadn't been able to since I was a child.

Bremman's arms encircled me, pulling me down to him as he continued to thrust into me, burying himself deeply within me. My breasts met his chest and I moved sensually against him. He groaned again and I met his lips once more, our mouths open and eager for one another. Our _bodies _open and eager. I could feel him growing anxious beneath me as I slid up and down his body and I knew my excitement was growing as well.

He took his hands from my hips then and brought them to my face, keeping our bodies together but lifting my face from his. He looked at me and I knew my eyes were dark with passion. I tried to kiss him again, but he kept my face up and just continued to watch my face as he drove home, again and again. I couldn't keep my eyes from fluttering shut with the intense pleasure of the moment.

"_Katherine_," he breathed. My eyes flew open. Oh, no. That was entirely too gentle of a sound he had just made. I crushed my lips to his suddenly, taking him by complete surprise, and felt him hesitate before responding. _Don't do this to me, _I begged him from within my mind. _Don't be kind and gentle. Take me and enjoy it, but don't convince yourself you love me._

Luckily, my insistence upon furiously heated kisses and my increased pace seemed to drive all thoughts of love from his mind and I felt him begin to finish in that heated race to the end. That pleasant pressure was gathering quickly, I knew, and I could feel the warning sensations building up in my skin and deep inside me. He clenched his arms about me and all the air left my lungs as he gave me a giant squeeze, as if the strength of his grip upon me would make the moment last, and then I came as well; my body answering his, gripping him wordlessly, clenching and unclenching spasmodically. He shuddered beneath me and I stayed still, laying my head down upon his chest weakly and smoothing one hand along his forehead.

We stayed that way for a long moment, his member still inside me as I rested upon him. I could feel my body still reacting to him, still drinking up the remainder of our lovemaking and he shook briefly every few seconds, his arms still encircling me tightly, unwilling to let the moment end- as I knew it must…and _soon_. I finally pulled away from him, unhitching his arms and drawing my leg over his body, removing myself. He slipped away from me even as his eyes watched me in the firelight, seemingly taken with my appearance.

Well, that was nothing new. I was not ashamed of my body and I knew I appeared to my best advantage right after a heavy…ride, so to speak. I smiled down at him as I leaned away, almost exultant in my triumph. I was well satiated and he knew it. He reached a hand towards me as he remained on his back and we let the firelight reflect off our gleaming skin. I put my hand in his, more than happy to share a quiet moment of satisfaction with him. I leaned my head back against the chair behind me and closed my eyes…gods, but I was tired and I could suddenly feel all of my twenty three years of hard living. I felt Bremman sit up and move to my side. He said something to me…

* * *

"Katherine? Are you awake now?" 

My eyelids fluttered and I felt a calloused hand carress my cheek. I gasped and suddenly sat bolt upright. Where was I?

"Shh, it's alright. You fell asleep," he finished in the soft voice again. I turned to stare at him. Bremman was seated next to me in the same bed, its soft covers pooled around his hips and mine and although I usually felt no shame in such a circumstance, heat filled my cheeks. I reached for a blanket and dragged it up over my bare breasts. Bremman looked away as he sensed my embarrassment. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, I could see his jaw working.

Was he ashamed of himself again? Was he going to confess his imagined love for me? I didn't want to stay and find out, so I slid from the bed, taking the blanket with me. He looked up at me, startled.

"I should go," I said quickly. "Where are my clothes?"

He stared at me, seemingly astonished. Oh, no. The poor man thought…I didn't dwell on it. Instead, I scanned that upstairs level quickly until I spotted my dress hanging over the back of a chair. So he had not only carried me upstairs and to bed, he had been thoughtful enough to fold my clothes as well. My face must have softened, because he rose as well then, and made a frustrated gesture.

"I wanted to tell you that you do not have to leave…unless you wish to," he spoke quietly, as if pleading with me. I walked around him and reached for my clothing, not answering him. He turned and put a hand on my arm, staying my action. "You can stay- with me," he amended. I paused and then gave a slight shake of my head.

"I cannot," I answered him. He removed his hand and I continued to reach for my clothes and began putting them on. When it was time to lace the gown, he stood behind me and helped. I kept the grateful smile from my face and pulled the curtain down over my eyes. I knew I was hurting him, but it was only a small hurt- practically imagined, considering that he didn't truly love me at all. In fact, I didn't speak to him again as I gathered the rest of my things and belted my sword to my waist once more.

I was down the stairs and almost out the door when he spoke again. His voice was steady, but I still did not look at him. Although I needed these nights as much as I needed to keep my emotions buried, from time to time they made me vulnerable- as weak as the illness had made me. I knew it was best not to look at him, not to remember how his strong arms had felt around my body. I was, after all, in the middle of a mission and it was necessary to put my own needs behind me…never mind that I had given into them earlier. That had been a lapse in judgment, I convinced myself.

"I do not know what your destiny is, Katherine Coldstone," he said softly, in that quiet voice I had first heard from inside the fiery planes of Oblivion. "But if you ever desire- after you have completed what it is you have set out to do, that is- to return here, I promise I will not turn you away," he paused. "You saved me today. I will return the favor someday, I swear to you."

I was struck by the quiet conviction his voice held and suddenly could not help myself. I turned my face and looked up at him from where I tightened the girth on Lore's saddle. Bremman's eyes were neither accusatory nor demanding and I felt myself smiling up at him, grateful for his presence that day. Perhaps there had been no lapse in judgment after all. Perhaps I had, for once in my life, made a good choice. Whether his feelings for me were imagined or real did not seem to matter as much now…his words held truth despite my doubt. He took my hand and raised it to his lips once, then helped me into the saddle.

"If I ever have need of a good man," I replied with honesty, "I will come find you, Bremman Senyan." He seemed satisfied with that answer and let my hand go. Then I picked up Lore's reins and clucked at him, nudging him forward with my knees.

We turned towards the road and set off at a steady canter. I looked back only once to see Bremman still standing at the gate, one hand raised in farewell. I turned away once more, eager to leave that place as soon as possible. If I did not leave quickly, I was afraid the kind words and gentle looks of the last surviving Knight of the Thorn might make me regret my promises to Martin.

And that was something I could not forsake, not for all the compassion and love in the whole of Cyrodiil. More lives than Farwil's lost one depended on me now.

The sun set slowly as we moved South towards my next target of Leyawiin. The journey would be a particularly long one and I settled back into the saddle, preparing for the road ahead.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

Lore's hooves pounded the ground beneath me, kicking up sod and dirt- nimbly avoiding boulders and trees, skirting about bushes and the unexpected turns in the road. I had been riding hard all day and the night was nearly upon us. We'd reached the road that ran parallel along the Nibben Bay and its tributaries some five hours ago and we were well on our way to Leyawiin. 

We hadn't stopped since I'd left Bremman's sheltering arms that morning.

I didn't know what I was escaping from, that I had to drive myself and my animal this hard, this fast, but something was surely eating away at me. Lore seemed to understand my need to run and he did not complain, although I could clearly see a sheen of sweat building upon his neck. I sighed and looked to the mid-afternoon sun. It would be sun down in another four hours and my horse needed a break.

Slowing Lore to a canter and then a healthy trot, I rustled about in back of me; grabbing his blanket and placing it about his shoulders; giving him a small wipe down as we moved forward. He whinnied his appreciation and I finally slowed him to a halt. We were at a clear sandbank by the river- this would be as good a place as any to stop and rest for the night. I wouldn't sleep, but I knew my horse needed it. I had gotten plenty of rest the night before.

Instead, I would spend my night planning: thinking ahead to where I was going, plotting out my course of action. I dismounted and after setting Lore up with a blanket and a small bag of meal before I tied him up to graze and snooze, I leaned against a tree and slid down to its base. I tilted my head back as I nibbled at some of my stores, trying to visualize my next target…Leyawiin. No, it was no use. After a few frustrating minutes I gave up. I'd never been to the blasted town; how could I be expected to plan for a place I'd never been? Instead, I pulled a map and my city guide from my satchel. Well, even if I'd never been, there were still some practical applications.

I'm not sure how long I spent there on that sandbank, resting my tired legs, rubbing the back of my neck absentmindedly as I perused scrolls and books. After a long while, Lore rose from his knees and nickered softly at me. Then he tossed his head back and forth a few times. I was on my feet immediately.

"What is it?" I whispered. There was no answer, only a rolling of his eyes. I could see the whites.

An arrow zinged past me and I turned immediately to fire a few bolts of my own into the shadows. I heard a grunt and the body of a bandit went down.

I turned back to Lore, who seemed calmer now. "Better?" I asked him, and he whinnied this time, nuzzling his muzzle to my palm.

"Fine, fine," I smiled. "Let's get out of here. You ready for a real stable?" An answering snort was my only reply and I laughed as I packed my bags again, securing them to his saddle before I released him and swiftly mounted.

I looked down the road, somewhere along it I would find Leyawiin and, hopefully, my troubles there would be less than in Cheydinhal. Clucking my tongue, I moved Lore along in a trot and we started down the road once more.

* * *

The remainder of the highway blurred past us as we galloped the final miles alongside the river into the city. It was waiting for our triumphant entry, just as the other had- they all needed a hero to close the gates that threatened them, it seemed. I was noticing a pattern and confirmatory news of the impending doom and plight of the other cities in the country met my arrival into Leyawiin. Luckily enough, there were no ridiculous knights to rescue, so the closing of Leyawiin's gate went more smoothly than the last, for which I was grateful. I prayed for the same success with the others. 

Now I was in the throne room of Castle Leyawiin, receiving honor from the count for a deed well done and begging for aid for Bruma, which of course he was more than happy to give- now that I'd dealt with that nasty gate for them. I was beginning to sense a strain of hypocrisy in these rulers.

Kneeling before Count Caro, I accepted his praise and thanks as graciously as I could, considering that I was sore, tired, and desperate to continue on. Instead of letting me go, however, he kept mentioning other things that needed to be taken care of until I finally had to beg leave of him as best I could and flee the throne room. I ran, in spite of the way I knew it must look to the others, in spite of the way my dress tangled about my legs.

I ran until I was safely outside the city gates and by Lore's side. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt him twist his head about to nuzzle my cheek. His breath was warm and wet upon my neck and I smiled softly.

"Oh, Lore, I know this is but the second city…will we ever complete the mission?" I could imagine Martin sitting safely at a table in the great hall of Cloud Ruler; the roaring fire behind him; his face lined as he read page after page, taking copious notes.

My eyes grew wet at the thought of him and I wiped them angrily. That was no good. Hadn't I told myself, again and again, that I could not think that way? Lore sensed my distress and whuffed his hot breath upon me once more, lipping lightly at my hair. I laughed and stroked his warm skin lovingly. No, I did not love horses, but I was fond of this one- and he of me, I was sure. As if in answer to my thoughts, he gave a small snort and tossed his head.

"Fine. We'll be off then. Let me change and buy more feed for you from your stablers, then you can gallop once more."

I knew it meant riding in the early morning, as we hadn't rested since the afternoon of the previous day, but the darkness had never bothered me. Besides, I had come equipped with plenty of torches…not to mention the lamps I had nicked along the way. I knew the count was richer than he realized, so an oil or tallow lamp or two on my bounty didn't bother me one bit.

Anyway, no one had noticed me take them, so I still didn't carry a bounty, period. I smiled at my own thievery and hurried to change. Lifting the occasional lamp was about the extent of my sneaking skill, at any rate. There was no use in being proud of myself. Plus, Lore would not be patient now that he knew we were to go. I could hear him whinnying already and so I rushed swiftly from the small room after filling his feed sack and tossing a 'thank you' over my shoulder.

Even as I swung my leg up over into the saddle, I was thinking ahead to my next target: the Imperial City. True, I needed to deal with Bravil before I reached that destination, but I was not concerned about the small waterfront city. I had heard enough rumors about the count there to know that once I closed the gate he would make any and all allowances for me. The Imperial City, on the other hand…

If I was honest with myself, I knew that I was nervous about returning there. I had been back only once since discovering Martin and making the journey to find Cloud Ruler; and that was to find Baurus and investigate the Mythic Dawn. Aside from running back and forth to the Arcane University, I hadn't had to deal with anyone in authority. None of the guards had seen my face, except in passing, so I was in no danger of being recognized or thrown back in prison; especially since I'd had a Blade there keeping watch over me. But now…_now_ the danger would be quite real.

I'd have to somehow get into the highest echelon of the city in order to speak with Chancellor Ocato and that was something I did not relish doing. I knew that if worse came to worse I would be able to battle my way out of prison or any other tough situation, but the bounty that would be on my head for murdering an Imperial guard would not be easily dealt with. I sighed in defeat and pressed onward. If I was to complete this mission before making my way to Sancre Tor, I needed to meet with every single of head of state in the province. And that included the Chancellor.

I leaned forward over Lore's neck and settled myself into the saddle, whispering words of speed to him.

We shot forward into the night. The gallop would cost us at least a day's rest once we got past Bravil, but I knew the good woman who ran the Wawnet Inn, and she would gladly give me a room for the night and put Lore up in her yard; that would give me enough time to infiltrate the city while he rested.

Still, that looked to be at least another sixteen hours from where we were all the way south of the Nibenay Basin. I stroked Lore's neck as we soared along the highway. My horse and my strength would not fail me yet, I was sure; but even as I reassured myself the night grew into a chill morning with the wind pushing at our backs as we raced towards our destination.

* * *

Miles, hours, and one Oblivion gate later, I pulled Lore up into a walk as we neared Weye. Bravil had not been a problem, as I'd anticipated, and we had gotten back onto the road without much trouble at all. In fact, if the position of the setting sun was any indication, we were well ahead of schedule, for which I was glad. Still…the sweat ran down Lore's face in rivulets and foamed under the saddle. I jumped from his back swiftly as I walked him into the yard of the Wawnet, removing his saddle and tossing a blanket over his shoulders. I called out for Nerussa and the door of the inn banged open. 

I looked over and could barely see her tall, elven figure in the dim light. She was carrying a lamp with her, a look of happiness upon her face even as she took in our sorry state.

"What have you been running from, child?" she murmured, handing me the lamp as she started to dress Lore down for me. I leaned wearily against the wall of her humble inn and lifted the lantern.

"That's a rather rhetorical question, isn't it?" I countered, and she laughed, her hands making swift work of Lore.

"I suppose it is, yes," she grinned, then took the blanket and gave my horse a brisk rub down. "Still, talk of your escape from the prison has filled the taverns for miles. Everyone wants to know how you did it."

I tensed and she could sense it, for she turned her face towards me. "There's no need to worry, child. No one who knows you is talking to anyone in authority. Besides, the guards hardly seem interested with this crisis at hand. True, they are authorized to take you into custody if they see you, but that could be wrong again- barely a soul's passed through here since-," she paused as a man stepped from the shadows across the road.

I recognized him immediately. I had helped with some trouble concerning his retirement a while ago; he had always been kind to me. "Aelwin!" I exclaimed and pushed away from the wall to walk to him. He smiled broadly at me and my heart was no longer cold.

How can I explain that this man had been kind to me and I to him in return? That he was one of the few lucky enough to hold my trust and good word? He never spoke ill of me, even when I was thrown in prison and I was grateful to him. There had even been a time when his son…ah. It was no use to think of those things. The past must always stay there, where it belongs. At any rate, I was glad of his company now and he seemed just as pleased to see me.

"Do you need someplace safe to stay, Katherine?" he asked me, the smile lingering upon his face. "You are always welcome under my roof," he added, taking my hands in his.

I returned his smile but shook my head. "I thank you, Aelwin. But Nerussa is the one with a basement full of places to hide myself if guards should come knocking on her door. I will be safe enough in the Wawnet."

I looked back over to my other friend- one of the few that I could number on one hand as being trustworthy- one of the few I had known before my troubles had begun, before I'd had to shut my feelings away. She was smiling softly, humming as she finished up with my dear paint pony. Lore threw a weary look my way and nickered. I grinned and turned my attention back to Aelwin.

"I'm staying with Nerussa, but would you come have a meal with me? It's been days since I ate properly."

The man's face brightened considerably and he nodded. I turned back to Nerussa as she finished giving Lore his feed bag and left him tied to the hitching post. "How soon will supper be ready?" I asked her. She frowned as she thought.

"It depends on what you want- I recently got some mutton in from Chorrol…that should still be good. Would it do? And there's plenty of cabbage, carrots and the like."

"Leeks?" I asked again, my face hopeful. She laughed at my eagerness. "Oh, _please_, Nerussa? I feel as if I haven't had your leek soup in years!"

"Well, it has been months." She sighed and threw up her hands. "Fine, follow me. You can wash up while I prepare it. Are you coming too, Aelwin?"

I looked over my shoulder at the man as the high elf led me towards the inn. The happiness upon his face at seeing me was fading, but he still smiled gladly. "I'll come over after I've tidied myself up a bit. An hour or two?"

I nodded and waved farewell and then Nerussa was shoving me in the door and bundling me up to a room, filling a tub with hot water. I didn't protest; I was tired and filthy and the steamy, scented liquid felt good upon my skin. I think I fell asleep in the warm bath.

At any rate, it was completely dark outside once I'd risen, dripping, from the now cool water. My skin, though clean, was now wrinkled and I grabbed at the robe Nerussa had laid out for me on the nearby bed. It, too, was scented, and I lost myself in memories as I lifted it to my face, inhaling deeply.

It smelled like the fresh sunshine and mineral waters of Lake Rumare, and I knew where she'd continued to do her laundry. Down there, if I looked out the window, past the abandoned dock were some stones upon the shore that were perfect for scrubbing clothes upon. I'd seen her doing her clothes and linens there many times before I'd ever gotten up the nerve to come and speak to her about my sister…

And that memory spawned another…Drianna's bright, shining yellow hair, her sunny smile, her green eyes which answered a call deep within my own soul. Who'd fallen ill after an attack from bandits…the alchemist who refused to aid us until I slept with him…who accused me of stealing, of killing my own beloved sister…I blinked back the tears, furious at myself.

It had not been Nerussa's fault that the man she'd sent me to had turned out to be so evil. _Evil_. Hmph. What was evil anymore? I wasn't sure, now that I'd seen the torture and terror of Oblivion. But it was not her fault, though I knew she blamed herself, nor mine. Nor Adrianna's. We had been taken advantage of by evil men and had not known how to defend ourselves against them. Even when Aelwin's son had tried to step in and help, it had been too late. It was too late to win my heart the moment I watched those bandits cut down my only family. And then my shame and presumed guilt by the court of Cyrodiil had refused to let me return home, to Skyrim, where I knew I would be welcomed no matter what had happened.

* * *

The tears continued to spill from my eyes in spite of my better intentions and a knock sounded on the door. It was Nerussa with a mug of mulled cider. She took one look at me before setting the glass down and wrapping her slim elven arms about my own broad shoulders. 

"There, there, child. What's the matter? Remembering difficult times? Come now, that's enough." I allowed her to rock me in her arms even as she drew the robe about my shivering form more closely. "You'll catch cold if you don't bundle up, child. Would your darling sister want that? Come now, there, there."

I listened to her quiet words of comfort and let them lull me into a calm. She finally stepped away and helped me into a proper gown as she handed me a towel to dry my hair.

"Is her grave still there?" I managed to ask, mumbling around the lip of the mug she'd shoved at me. Her hands, lacing up the dress, stilled for the briefest of moments before continuing about their business briskly.

"Of course it is. Aelwin puts flowers on her grave every Sundas. Do you want to see it before you leave tomorrow?"

I nodded and wiped away the last of my tears and Nerussa smiled kindly. "You've been holding it all in again, haven't you? You always were like that. Silent and chilly to anyone you didn't trust. How you ever decided to come and see me, I'll never know."

"It was Aelwyrd," I said before realizing I'd spoken. But now that I'd said his name aloud, now that Nerussa and I were speaking of it, it was easier to talk on. "He was the first to earn my trust. He taught me to fish- I'd never learned in all my time in Skyrim or with the Skaal. They never had much use for fishing."

I paused as I remembered the boy with dark hair and laughing eyes and the tender way he'd looked at me- _me, _not my sister- and the way he was so proud of any of my accomplishments…how proud he was I was taking such good care of my sister.

I'd never returned his feelings, though I had wished to. He would have been a good husband. _Not as good as Martin_, a voice whispered in my ear. I thrust it away. There was no use in thinking of him that way. He was not for me. Instead, I turned my attention back to my high elven friend.

"He left after I was imprisoned, didn't he?"

Nerussa was silent, though she stopped combing my hair. It was an answer.

"I knew he would."

"He loved you, that boy did. It was Aelwin who sent him away after…all that."

I turned about, surprise on my face. Nerussa avoided my eyes as she gathered the used robe.

"Not because he didn't want- oh, I'm making a mess of this. The boy wanted to rescue you, somehow. He had some idea of breaking into prison, or paying someone off, but the guards got wind of it. They came sniffing around, the puppets, and after that Aelwin did what he thought was best. It was a difficult decision."

I sighed with relief. So Aelwin had not sent his son away for fear of him loving me…he had saved him. Perhaps he had even known that I did not love his son that way. Perhaps he was saving both of us by sending him away. I smiled to myself. "He did the right thing," I murmured.

"Did he?" the other woman whipped about as we left the room. "Perhaps he could have saved you, and then whatever it is you are doing now you would be free from and you could have lived a normal life- I always swore I'd try to keep you safe, at least, after what happened to your sister! And I haven't managed to do anything at all-."

I stopped her, the smile still upon my lips. "Don't blame yourself, Nerussa. Why should you? I was equally to blame, as were the men involved." I paused, searching for words that would reassure her without giving myself away.

"I was specially chosen for the task I am performing now. You do not need to worry. I can take care of myself. I do what needs to be done now, unlike that whelp of a girl I was back then. I know it has only been a year or so since we first made acquaintance, but I have grown up quickly since then. That time seems…so very long ago, now."

She looked down into my face, her hands gripping my upper arms as she tried to search out an answer in my eyes. Whatever she saw must've frightened her, for her grip grew tighter.

"What do they have you doing, child? It's something to do with the crisis, I can see!"

I shook my head. "Do not worry about me."

Her eyes narrowed for a moment and then she abruptly let go of me, turning about to walk down the stairs. I followed her. "The emperor himself has placed his trust in me," I whispered.

She didn't turn around, but I could see some tension melt from her shoulders as she moved to the pots upon her stove.

"So that's how it is," she murmured. I nodded and swiped a roll, sitting down to a table as I did so.

"Yes," I mumbled around the fresh bread. She turned around and placed some dishes upon the table.

"Don't spoil your appetite," she added shortly, but I could see the hints of a smile about the corners of her eyes.

I smiled too and finished off the roll anyway, then sat back to await Aelwin's arrival. Nerussa maintained her post in her small kitchen. I knew I had given her much to think on…and if I knew her, she wouldn't be finished with questions. But at least I would be ready with some answers.

Peace fell over the dining room of the inn, startled only by wood popping within the fireplace. I felt myself being lulled back into a steady and calm sleep and gave into it gladly.

Though the lullaby of the inn was not the same as it had once been and people had left our happy company, I felt a sense of home there that I had not found elsewhere, except, _perhaps_, by Martin's side.

My last lucid thoughts were of chastisement for dreaming of a man I could never have.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

**Author's Note: Here is where I truly diverge from the main quest; however, I do have a plan. A future side story needed some background padding and motivations. :) Also, I have looked up a few sources as regards vampirism in Oblivion and I've done the best I can to portray a _semi-accurate_ version of the disease. Not everything will be exact, of course, but I'm content for the pruposes of the story. For instance, garlic, though not actually useful against vampires in gameplay, _is _aningredient in the potion to cure vampirism. So I'm stretching its uses to be included as protection against vampires. Honestly, is it fair to leave all those poor people of Cyrodiil completely defenseless? Wait, don't answer that. Anyhow, now that I'm done rambling, here is Chapter 6.**

* * *

A sudden crash of crockery brought me to my feet; though I had been asleep a moment before, I was wide awake now. I glanced quickly toward Nerussa, who was standing stock still, staring at the front door of the inn, hands holding air. Looking over the edge of the counter, I could see where she had dropped that evening's meal. The dish had broken to pieces and I looked back up to her face, sending the curtain crashing down within my mind. 

Whatever had frightened her could not be good…and not good things were best dealt with as unemotionally as possible.

"What is it?" I murmured softly. She could only lift her eyes to mine and point towards the outside. Then I heard it, too. I sucked air in through clenched teeth as the noise penetrated my mind, awakening a new fear- a recently dealt with fear.

The howl came again and I sprung into action. "Where's Aelwin?" I asked, even as I was reaching to my side for my sword. My hand gripped air and I panicked momentarily.

Nerussa shook her head. "He hasn't arrived yet."

"So he could be out there…with those creatures," I finished and turned to stare at her. She was pushed far against the wall, her eyes wide with fright. "Nerussa," I managed to keep my voice calm, "go hide in your basement. That's where you keep the garlic. Tie some about your neck. And don't come out till I tell you to."

She took one more look at me before fleeing down the steps, the door banging shut after her. I ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time until I reached my room at the top where my sword was still in its scabbard, leaning against the doorframe. I snatched it up and then made for a window in the hallway. I didn't want the undead coming in through the front door, so my next option was shimmying out the window and down the side of the inn to the first floor. I prayed Nerussa would forgive me breaking her vines of morning glory.

My feet hit the ground with a solid thump and I quickly threw myself into a low crouch even as I tied the sword belt around my waist and drew the blade. I crept along the side of the inn and glanced once around the corner.

There, in the dim lantern light from the Wawnet, I could see two creatures locked in battle over a man's body. It appeared as if they were arguing over who would get to eat him. _Have they bitten him yet? _I couldn't tell…but if they had, then that meant I would have to kill him myself. I did not relish the prospect of killing one of my dearest and only friends. Then I heard him.

His strangled cry bit right through my curtain of iron and pierced my heart.

My actions were swift and unexpected and the two vampires could never have seen me coming, even with their sense of smell and night vision and increased strength…nothing could save them and I cut them down with one mighty cleave to their bodies. My sword arced through the air about me once, bringing them both down in a bloodless mess. I never even heard them scream their ungodly howls into the night, so swift was my retribution.

I cleared their bodies from Aelwin where he lay in the road, body spread between the two small buildings. He grunted once as I raised him up in my arms. He felt so light, so fragile. He smiled up at me, blood trickling from his lips.

"Katherine…I didn't know…you've gotten so strong since you've been away," he murmured, voice raspy and quiet.

I stared down into his face, horror upon mine, reflected in the fading light of his eyes. I held his body in my arms and lifted him in one movement.

"You'll be fine, Aelwin," I managed to choke out. "They didn't bite you, did they?"

He shook his head before it lolled to one side and I hurried over to the door of the Wawnet, kicking it in as I bore his still body inside. I lay him on a table and ran to the basement door, banging on it.

"Nerussa!" I yelled. "Come quick! Bring your potions!" Then I rushed back to Aelwin's side. He was bleeding badly…if he hadn't been bitten, then where did-? My question was answered as I perused his body, tearing the already soiled clothing away. If I had felt horror before, now all I felt was sheer terror. It gripped my stomach firmly and I had to stumble back to the door as I retched up what little food I'd had earlier. I heard Nerussa enter from below and she immediately rushed to the table.

I could barely turn around. "No, don't go near him!" I admonished her. She stopped short of the table, bottles clutched to her bosom. "Nerussa," I murmured, "those potions won't do him any good now."

She could only stare at me, then back to him, shaking her head. What I had realized a moment before was that he had not been shaking his head in the negative, he had simply passed out. The truth was, he had been bitten…and badly. It appeared they had almost drained him, one or the other, before I'd arrived. So while he had been bitten, he would still not survive. There was not enough blood left in him to let him live once the turning happened and though I knew it would take days, I did not know of a cure.

I managed to stumble back over to him and shove Nerussa out of the way. "Aelwin," I said, teeth clenched, eyes screwed up as I desperately tried not to let my fear and sorrow show on my face. He opened his eyes slowly; he had trouble focusing. I put one hand to the side of his face to help him and smiled up at me once more.

"Dear Katherine has saved me…but what's the matter? You are unhappy, child."

I shook my head. "Aelwin, you…I was not soon enough. They have bitten you. You are all but…all but dead. But you have a choice to make, now." I paused as I saw my own fear transferred to his face. How could I say these things to him? But no, it was fair. I could not just kill him outright, as I would a stranger. "Aelwin, listen closely. You will turn in three days, but you will be too weak to live. You might not even make it that far. So, you have two choices. I am giving them to you now, though it hurts me to do so- it is my fault I was not quick enough; I should have been on my guard for enemies all this time."

He only looked up at me wordlessly, his face resolving itself into a gaze of determination despite his fear. I tried to soften the blow with a sad smile.

"I can help you die now…or I can restrain you and help you die once you have turned...if you live that long."

I'm still not sure, even today, if he ever truly had a choice between the two, as he saw fit. But he was brave that night- as brave as he was the day they took me away; as brave as I imagine he was when he sent his son away from everything he'd ever known and loved.

With a wordless glance to Nerussa's trembling form, he turned back to me and lifted one hand, gripping my shirt front. I clasped my own hand over his and leant forward to hear him better.

"Now," he whispered. "I trust you, Katherine. Be safe…and do not _blame_ yourself."

I could not help the tears as they fell and I knew he was not only referring to himself. I could hear Nerussa crying as well, even as I lifted my sword over his chest, my eyes never leaving his. He seemed to take strength from my gaze and he met the great downward thrust of my sword with courage, unwavering from his choice.

The moment my sword entered his chest I felt my own heart break, though he never uttered a word. Nerussa dropped her potions all over the floor as she collapsed to meet the ground herself. My eyes did not leave his, however. There was a promise between us now…I had helped him die with grace and I would be with him until the very end. Even as his eyes began to glaze over and his breath hitched within his chest, I did not look away.

Even as his hand slipped from my shirt, I stayed with him.

Until the final breath left him, I watched his face and brushed the hair from his forehead with tenderness. There was no thank you, no motion of gratitude save the smile that answered mine, gracing his lips at the very end.

"Aelwin," I murmured once more before I lay the hand that had gripped mine back upon his chest. Then I turned to Nerussa who was still huddled upon the floor. She sensed my gaze and lifted her head.

"What now, child?" she asked me, her voice strange and wavering. I looked back to the old fisherman's body.

"We send him out for one last sail upon the Rumare," I answered her before pulling my sword from his body. There was no more time for tears.

* * *

We sent him sailing off into Lake Rumare in the early morning hours of the next day. The dawn was just breaking as the swiftly made pyre burst into flames beyond the shoreline. Nerussa stood next to me and sighed, drawing her shawl closer about her shoulders. 

"That was my best table," she murmured. I looked down at her in horror.

"Nerussa!"

"What, is it too soon for humor, child? Come, you can't tell me you plan on never smiling again. He wouldn't have liked that very much," she chastised me before turning and starting up the dune towards the houses once more.

I took one last glance out towards Aelwin's funeral pyre and then followed. "No, but you know I'm not like you. I can't feel as easily."

She scoffed at me as we walked and glanced over, eyes soft upon my face. "You felt easily enough last night. And the night your sister died. And the night Aelwyrd confessed to you. You just don't care to admit it right now."

It was my turn to scoff. "I can't afford to feel every blasted thing that happens to me, Nerussa. There are too many lives at stake for me to be weeping up a tree somewhere every time something bad happens."

We were silent as we reached the inn and she unhitched Lore for me.

"Can't I convince you to stay longer?" she murmured. I shook my head and accepted the reins before mounting.

"I must leave. But I promise I will return in time. I will not let whatever coven of vampires dwells around here to live for much longer. If I had the time to deal with them now, I would. But, Nerussa…keep your doors and windows locked at night. And garlic along every opening. Never sleep without it around your neck, understand?" My voice was low and serious and she nodded, eyes narrowed.

"I understand. Shall I keep my ears open as well?"

"Yes," I replied, turning Lore about to face the bridge. "I have no doubt that if the attack happened this close to the city, then there is someone inside those walls that knows more than he or she is willing to admit."

She nodded again and then took my hand once more. "Be careful inside there. And if you need to stop again before heading West, you know where to find me."

But even as she spoke, we both knew I would not pass through Weye again and stop. There was always the possibility that whoever had attacked last night had done so because they were after me. I could not risk losing Nerussa as well. So instead, I only smiled at her before dropping the curtain and driving Lore across the bridge to the Imperial City.

I might have undead to deal with later, but my mission to gather aid for Bruma and assist Martin remained the same. I did not know what the Imperial City held for me, but I hoped my visit would be brief.

Putting off vengeance for any length of time had _never _been my strong suit.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

Pushing myself away from the wall, I moved forward to greet the Chancellor. He seemed to be in a hurry and was speaking in quiet tones to an aide. He barely looked at me before he passed me without a word and I stared after him, astonished.

Here I was, after having traveled for hundreds of miles, after having closed no less than five Oblivion gates, and the ruler of the free empire couldn't give me the time of day.

Not to mention, I was pissed about the death of one of my few good friends. A death which probably could have been prevented if the city guard had been doing their jobs properly.

The rich bastard. I felt my baser Nord instincts kick in and I whirled about, shouting his name with the most commanding voice I possessed. This time, he turned around and I smiled inwardly. Even rich bastards could be intimidated, it seemed. He walked back towards me slowly, for which I was glad. I refused to make this easy for him.

"Yes, soldier? What is it?" His voice, though silky smooth, was suspicious of me and rightly so. I was dressed like a rich man, but wore the armor of a mercenary and a broad, generously used blade hung at my side. There was a quiver of arrows along my back and a shield hanging off of one arm. My hood was down, but my guard was up and my eyes were impossible to read. And on top of all this, I was obviously a woman, doing what I assumed he thought should be a man's work. I gave him a curt smile.

"Chancellor Ocato, I have been sent to request aid for Bruma; they are in danger of being under siege from Oblivion gates as we speak…if I do not gather more troops for them soon, we may see Bruma go the way of Kvatch."

He eyed me stonily before responding and I felt my heart thud down into my stomach. Looks like that were never accompanied by good news.

"Soldier, I am sorry to say that I do not have time nor resources to give to one outlying city. Now, if you'll excuse me-."

He began to turn around and I wanted to gape at him, my astonishment raced back with such strength. I settled for grabbing his arm instead.

"Chancellor! Jauffre himself has sent me! We require aid not just for Bruma, but for the sake of Martin Septim- surely you can grant us a few soldiers?"

"How dare you-," he started, but paled considerably at my words. "Martin _Septim_?" he asked. "You mean there is another heir to the throne?"

It was my turn to hedge a bit; I knew I shouldn't have mentioned him- I didn't know who might be spying for the Mystic Dawn. Not to mention, until we had the amulet back, all question of bloodline was easily disputed. Still, I tried to make myself as believable as possible. I _knew_, in my heart of hearts, that Martin was Uriel Septim's son. They looked so much alike, after all…their facial features, their voices, their eyes…Martin's were that pale blue, just like his fathers. And kind, as well.

I stared Chancellor Ocato down. "Yes, he is under the care of the Blades in a base near Bruma at the moment. He's part of why we need more troops."

The chancellor's face softened and he cast his eyes away from mine, as if he were looking far into the future. I could suddenly see, in spite of the fact he was a rich bastard, why everyone thought he was 'doing such a fine job' of holding the country together. He could certainly be charming when he needed to be.

"I am sorry, then," he spoke softly. "I understand the need to protect those within our own country and especially someone who may very well be the next emperor. However, my job is to maintain order in the empire worldwide- not just within Cyrodiil. And there are evil forces afoot in other provinces right now. I must attend to them first and foremost."

My heart thudded even lower. I knew his answer would remain the same.

"I cannot provide more aid at this time, soldier. But the thoughts and prayers of the council will be with you."

I could only nod and watch him as he left. I was angry, true, but I also understood his point. If the empire fell apart before we could even get Martin on the throne, there would be even more bloodshed and wars afterwards. In a way, the chancellor was placing his total confidence in us to get the job done and save Cyrodiil.

It should have been encouraging. Instead, all I felt was a shiver of fear as I turned to leave. Just as I reached the door, I heard a voice call out to me. It was a guard who had been with the chancellor. I turned to meet his eyes and he frowned.

"I know you from somewhere," he said, eyes narrowed in recognition.

I remained calm. I had been ridiculously lucky thus far; no one had recognized me, or, if they had, no one had approached me. Though I was well aware how fearsome I looked, I knew that any one of the guards who might have recognized would not be afraid to approach. The commoners would be smart enough to stay away, but most guards, like the one who had approached me now, would have enough training to assume they could easily take me in case of trouble.

How they were mistaken.

"I do, don't I?" he continued, even as my eyes were narrowing. "You came before the court no more than two months ago…there was an alchemist, wasn't there?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," I replied with dignity. "And I certainly do not know any _alchemists_. I don't exactly consort with chemists, soldier."

The man bristled slightly, then smiled sheepishly. "Well, no, I suppose you don't look the type to, no. Perhaps I was mistaken."

I nodded coolly and turned to go once more, but no sooner had I turned my back than he had started to call for reinforcements. _So. _He was going to be one of _those_, was he? Fucking _heroes_. I whirled back around, snuck around his side to put him in a headlock and had dragged him back into the shadows before he knew what was upon him. He was _most _effectively silenced.

As he struggled under my grip I spoke in low tones into his ear. He slowly stopped twisting about and became quite still. I smiled.

"There, now. That wasn't so difficult, was it? Now, before I'm forced to knife you for being a nuisance- and believe me, I could do it before you could even draw your weapon- listen very closely: I am a member of the Blades. I was 'christened,' so to speak, by Jauffre himself. And if you know what's good for you and your precious empire, you'll let me on my way." A thought occurred to me and my smile took on a sly shade. "As for my _trial_, didn't they tell you up at the guard tower that was all a ruse? They needed someone on the inside right around that time. I'm sorry you missed the memo on that one."

He made a sound of frustration and embarrassment and I tightened my grasp. "Now, do you promise not to be a bother anymore? Because I could just as easily snap your neck as knife you in this position." His face paled considerably and he finally nodded. I released him and crouched back into the shadows, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. He stumbled away a few steps and then turned around to face me.

"I- I'm sorry, ma'am. It's just- well, they don't always tell me everything…I'm not that important- I'll just be on my way…never saw a thing, ma'am." Then he wandered off, rubbing at his neck vigorously. I grinned and pushed at the nearest door. Sunlight greeted my exit, but I remained in a crouch and decided to keep to the shadows. There was no point in attracting any _more_ unwanted attention.

So my trip to the capital was not very well-met, but I still had work to do. Skingrad was next and I'd been hearing some odd things about the count there. I hoped the rest of my journey would be swift and smooth. I needed no more interruptions, especially now that I had a death to avenge.

Once outside the city gates, I leapt onto Lore's back and rode hard and fast out over the bridge and through Weye. I had no desire to stop and greet Nerussa or to gaze into the now empty windows of my old friend's cottage.

I wondered only briefly if Nerussa would tell Aelwyrd of his father's death and what, if anything, the young man would be able to do. Then I leant over Lore's neck and urged him ever onward.

* * *

The day remained sunny and brilliant, despite the previous day's portents. It put me ill at ease and that is how I arrived at Skingrad that evening: sour faced and full of anger and undirected hate, all boiling behind an iron curtain that burned red hot.

It was not how I should have gone into that city, but no one could have told me, _prepared _me, for what I would find in that place.

I arrived at the castle in due course. The sun was not yet fully set, but there was a dark cloud brewing over the city. In the distance, I could see the red fire of an Oblivion gate reflected against the cloud cover. It was almost frightening, against the backdrop of the tall steeples and thick walls of Castle Skingrad.

I reached the gates by taking a winding path up from the city gates and through the trees. It hugged the mountain and a bridge crossed a rather deep gorge on its way to the castle's entrance. I should've gone straight away to deal with the gate, I knew that…but I was tired from the hard ride and I thought it would be best to speak with the count right away. I knew, from some locals, that he was inclined to be secretive and private, so I wanted to insure his aid to Bruma before I went saving his city for him. It wouldn't do to save the city only to have him refuse to meet with me.

As I waited for his appointment keeper, Mercator Hosidus, to retrieve the man for me, I sat down and listened to the idle chatter his other attendants kept up. An orc and argonian were discussing various business matters and happenings about the village. I smiled to myself. So they thought Skingrad was a village. I supposed, to people who had never known anything else and made regular trips to the Imperial City, Skingrad _wasn't _a major center of commerce. But to me, it was right in the center of the Colovian goods trade and was a vital city for business and many worthwhile products. To a woman like myself, who had only known villages in Skyrim the size of Weye and the home of the Skaal on Solstheim, Skingrad was a thriving metropolis.

Well, perhaps not quite that large, but still. Sizable, at least. I smiled to myself until the orc's words caught my ear.

"She'll sell, alright. Rosethorn is a good, sturdy house."

"Aye, but she'll need lots of upkeep. Whoever purchases that place will need help and who is there in town willing to take a job like that?"

"Ah, but the woodwork alone is worth the gold it costs. She's a beauty. Mark my words, Hal-Liurz, she'll sell!"

I was intrigued, even as the argonian woman scoffed. How much could one house in a place like Skingrad cost, especially if it were well made and worth the purchase? Not to mention, although there did seem to be a general pall over everything, the streets were well patrolled and I rather thought it would be a nice place to live and work.

Perhaps once the crisis were over, I might even consider it…after all, my previous home didn't belong to me anymore. Never mind that I wasn't even sure I wanted to settle back in Cyrodiil, but the bug had bitten. I was curious. I was out of my seat and speaking to the castle's butler before I knew it.

"How much?" I asked up front. I'd never purchased any sort of property before, so I had no idea of how to go about the business. But the orc looked me up and down and nodded.

"For Rosethorn? I really don't think I can talk to you about that. We don't like strangers here," he murmured.

I frowned and shook my head. So. It was going to be one of those situations. None of these idiots liked outsiders, I knew that, but gold was gold, wasn't it? I was about to snap back at him when the noble, Hosidus, called to me. I immediately turned and ran towards him, stopping short.

Behind him, I could see a man, but his face was in shadow. I stepped around the noble.

"Count Hassildor? I must speak with you about aid for Bruma," I began, but paused when I saw his face. He must have seen the change come over me, for I was obscenely obvious in my distaste and fear.

"I'm sorry, do I frighten you? You have no reason to fear me, I assure you. I prefer privacy and quiet to the activities of those that would claim kinship with me."

I could only stare at him in silence. I barely heard a word he said, I was so bewildered. I knew he must be spouting the same nonsense about not being able to supply aid until his own city was safe, but I couldn't hear a word. I was wholly drawn in by his eyes and was trying desperately to contain myself. Killing the count of Skingrad would be no small action, but I did not know how I was expected to resist the urge to throttle the man.

His red eyes glowed with a curiosity equal to my own and his mouth smiled sadly at his- and my- predicament. I could just see the tips of the fangs, gleaming slightly in the torchlight. It was no wonder he only saw visitors at night. It was no wonder there was a pall over the whole city. It was no wonder criminals didn't roam the streets.

The damned man was a vampire.

I think I may have screamed, but I can't be sure. I also had a vague notion that the count attempted to talk sense into me, his face- apart from the eyes and teeth- looking almost fatherly, but that too was blurry. Either way, I ran hard and fast from the room and out the doors of the castle. It was all I could do not to pull my sword on him right there. I wondered briefly if my leaving in that manner would lessen my chances of getting aid for Bruma. Then I laughed at myself. _If only Jauffre could see my dedication now, _I thought. _If only Martin knew the lengths I was going to. _I figured I must have been only one of less than a dozen who knew the count's secret. There couldn't be many in on it, at any rate. Otherwise there would have been an uprising long ago. None of that answered my question, though.

What the hell was I supposed to do now? Kill the man _after _I closed the gate? Or before? Or perhaps I shouldn't kill him _at all_ and let the local guards deal with it, instead.

_Or you could say nothing at all_, I told myself. I liked that option least of all, but I knew it was a possibility. I could always go deal with him later…and the province needed unity just then, not more chaos. I sighed and straightened myself up.

So that's what I was going to do. I was going to let it slide until after the bloody crisis. _Fuck._ I turned around and marched back down the path and started over the hills towards the fire in the sky.

I had a gate to close and a city of innocent people to save. The lordly, _gentile _vampire could wait and I knew he would too- for all eternity, the blasted creature. Oblivion, on the other hand, could not.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

I beat my way through imps, scamps and those bloody daedra for what seemed like hours.

It probably was hours, in fact, but that didn't stop me. The minute I was done and transported back onto a smoldering hill top I tucked the orb into my bag and started down the hillside for the road.

I wanted to be done with Skingrad as soon as possible. Every inch of my skin was crawling with the disgust I felt for that place. Count Hassildor's red eyes were burned into my memory and I caught myself looking over my shoulder worriedly every few seconds.

_Stop that, _I told myself. There was no point in being frightened. Although I was horrified by undead, I had conquered them and much worse things before. Why should I run from such things? So Aelwin's death had come at the hands of…well, by proxy it was myself that killed him. Still, if not for the vampires' attack he would have been alive, yet. I was angry and looking for a fool to blame besides myself, but the count was not at fault, I knew that. Besides, the count had seemed an agreeable enough man otherwise, well spoken and kind. He had broad shoulders and a strong jaw and despite his graying hair he was handsome…

I laughed at myself as I leapt over another ridge of rocks. It seemed a battle in Oblivion had cleared my head, miraculously. At least now I could trust myself not to kill the…_man _on sight. No, he would live today and possibly tomorrow as well.

I made my way across the bridge and nodded to the guard standing at the gates before pushing my way inside. He eyed me warily and stood back at attention. No doubt I looked a mess and I peered around the hall once inside, hoping for a mirror where I could at least straighten my hair. I laughed at myself again. What hair? I had barely any to speak of. Perhaps I could wipe the blood off my face, then. After speaking to the steward I sat down to wait for the count's return. The orc I'd spoken to earlier about the house for sale in town was nowhere to be seen and I occupied myself with wiping my face clean of the soot and blood.

The sleeves of my shirt would need heavy scrubbing before they would ever be the same. I smiled and rubbed at my cheek once more. I knew I'd chosen a red linen for a good reason. Well…if its original color had been red. I had plundered it off a fresh corpse- there was a good possibility it was a white linen, to begin with.

Screwing up my nose at the thought, I thrust shirts and linen dyes from my mind and rose to greet the count. He was walking towards me with a little more caution in his step. I looked away from him while I bowed. I may have gotten some perspective on his…condition, but that didn't mean I liked it- or liked _looking _at it. One couldn't hide being a vampire. Pale skin, red eyes, slight bulge along the lip line from teeth that no longer fit in one's mouth…to me, it was as obvious as the difference between a khajit and an argonian.

"I'm glad you've returned safely, Hero of Kvatch," he greeted me cordially, offering a hand to lift me up. I hid the thrill of fear that coursed through me and straightened up on my own, nodding my head.

"It's not Hero, Count," I replied stiffly. "I am Katherine Coldstone. Nothing more and nothing less. And now, I believe you have an answer for me."

He smiled and nodded in return, lowering his hand. "Of course. You have my word to send troops to aid Bruma in their battle against Oblivion."

I smiled in satisfaction and turned to leave. I didn't even care if I offended him or not. I had done what was needed and now I wanted to leave the strange and disturbing city of Skingrad.

"Before you go, Miss Coldstone, won't you rest for a moment? You have done my city a great service and I would very much like to return the favor."

I turned around slowly and eyed him. Behind me, I could hear the guards shuffling to block my exit. I stared at him and felt my temper rising once more. "What is this?" I asked, outraged.

"Please, I mean you no harm, Miss Coldstone. I only wish to speak with you. You left here before in such haste…I would hate to have you leave with such an ill impression of our fair city."

He was smiling, but I could tell he meant business. Sighing, I dropped my hand from the hilt of my sword and assented. He wouldn't let me go anywhere without a fight and it would be foolish of me to cause trouble now, especially with a count who had just promised aid to the emperor. Whatever he wanted- a promise of silence, a bargain for my life, I would be forced to give it to him. He had me exactly where he wanted me and knew it. I scowled as we were led back into his living quarters.

* * *

The count stopped the tour in a large sitting room. He gestured to a pair of chairs. "Please, sit down. May I offer you something to eat?"

I smiled stiffly. "Will you be joining me?"

He glanced at me sharply before laughing. "Touché, Miss Coldstone. No, of course not. But if you would be more comfortable eating in solitude, I could have a tray sent to the room we've arranged for you."

"I really can't stay," I replied as firmly as possible. "I must get back on the road as soon as possible- I have a mission to complete."

The count eyed me as he poured a glass of something dark and red for himself. I looked away, my stomach heaving. It really was surprising, the revulsion I felt. I could hack and slash monster after hideous monster and come home covered in blood, not batting an eyelash. But to watch a man- what was once a man- drink the stuff turned my stomach to a boiling mess.

No matter how dignified or handsome the count was, he was still a vampire. I had to remember that. He sat down in the seat across from mine and gestured again.

"Miss Coldstone, really. Must I remind you why you're here?"

It was my turn to laugh. "What, going to remind me of your superhuman strength? Need I remind _you_ that I've dealt with more than one of your kind at the same time and lived to tell the tale? I could break you in two before your precious peons could open that door, so don't threaten me. The only reason I came quietly is because I _must _get aid for Bruma…for the emperor." I ended softly, thinking of Martin. I wondered what he was doing and what he would think of my striking deals with the devil. Probably wouldn't approve, though he might understand. No, I must protect Martin at all costs- even to my immortal soul, if I had one.

Count Hassildor was quiet for several moments before he placed his glass on the table beside him and leaned forward in his seat.

"I know you're powerful, Katherine Coldstone. Forgive me, I did not mean to imply otherwise. I suppose that after being the most powerful person in town for so long it is difficult for me to remember that there are others more powerful than myself. But come, do sit down. I still need your word on the matter."

"You haven't asked for it yet, but it isn't necessary. I won't say anything, you have my word. What other choice do I have? As long as you aren't feeding off your own citizens, I could care less what you do. My concern is saving this wretched kingdom. I promise you won't hear from me again- not until well after that job's taken care of, at least. Then, all bets are off."

He nodded once and stood. "Very well. As long as we understand each other. I hope you do return to my fair city someday, Miss Coldstone. I would like to know you better…and your skills may prove very useful to me in the future."

I snorted. "Not likely, but I appreciate your being reasonable." He started to offer one of his rooms to me again and I refused. "Please, don't bother. I'm sure you understand my…hesitation." A sudden thought struck me and I spoke again. "But if you truly insist on doing me the service of giving me a place to stay the night, I am interested in the house for sale here."

His eyes widened somewhat and he smiled strangely. "Miss Coldstone, you have just refused service from the leader of Skingrad himself and yet you wish to purchase a home here?"

I shrugged, unwilling to admit my fascination- and simultaneous revulsion- with the place. "I heard your butler speaking about it earlier, but he did not seem to think I would make a very good citizen."

Count Hassildor seemed to consider my request seriously for a moment before responding. "Why do you wish to live here, Miss Coldstone?"

I smiled and turned as if to go. "Though I personally disapprove of your…setup, it is a rather picturesque place. It would be nice to have a home to return to once this war is over for good. Besides, Skingrad seems to assign its inhabitants a certain degree of anonymity, which I find highly desirable."

He nodded, then stood up and walked over to a desk, opening it and searching for paper. He pulled out a piece and poised a pen over it, prepared to write. "If I do this for you, Miss Coldstone, I will require a promise from you."

I raised an eyebrow and snorted again. "I'm not promising anything until I hear what it is you want."

"A smart idea, indeed," he replied. "Very well: I will give you my seal, ensuring your purchase of the house, if you promise to return here and complete a task for me."

I watched him sign his name and then roll the paper up, stamping it. I shook my head and crossed my arms. "It's not going to be that easy, Count," I remarked. "What is the task?"

He hesitated before speaking. "I am not the only vampire in this area. As such, I have been searching for a cure for…such citizens for a long time now, but have not had any luck. If you promise to return and try to find a cure for this disease I will give you my seal."

I tilted my head in thought. He had no reason to lie to me. Still, I could tell he was not telling me the entire story and my doubt held me back. "You're not telling me everything, Count," I said.

He smiled tightly and held out the scroll. "You do not need to know everything…yet. All I can say is that your mission will only put you in as much danger as you are in now, I am certain. The personal details of the disease are just that: personal. Now, do you accept my offer or not?"

I eyed the paper and then the count. His eyes were glowing strangely and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally, I gave in and shrugged. "Alright," I smiled. "It's a deal. I promise to return after the war."

A weight seemed to slide off his shoulders and he sighed, handing me the seal. "Thank you. And now, I must be off. It will be daylight soon. Speak with my butler and he will give you everything you need."

I took the proffered paper and bowed my head to him before turning and walking quickly from the room. In spite of my delight at being promised the house, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made a deal with Mehrunes Dagon himself. I hoped the stench of vampirism would not linger on me this time as I made my way back to Martin's side. Laughing at myself, I shook my head. Never mind that. I still had several tasks before me before I could return to Martin. I was sure the grime of one battle would soon be covered with another. No one would be able to tell where I'd been for all the dirt on my face. It was, for the first time, a reassuring thought.

* * *

I made a quick stop on my way through the hall to make the transaction with the butler. He readily agreed to sell me the house after I showed him the seal and I happily paid the sum. The deed changed hands and I was now the proud owner of my first home. It was an exhilarating feeling- a feeling of independence and hope. I was thrilled and hugged the orc before he could react. Then I raced out of the hall and down into the city proper to take a look at it. I knew I could spare a few moments to inspect it before hitting the road again.

As I stood on the street, gazing up at it, I could feel a sense of accomplishment overwhelm me. _This is for you, Drianna_, I told myself. This was what we had always wanted, the reason we had come to Cyrodiil in the first place: a home of our own, where we could live quietly and independently; where Drianna could practice her sewing and weaving and I could tutor little ones in battle and books. It was ironic, then, that it was only because of her death that I had ended up in prison, where I had been given my mission and from that mission came the money needed to purchase such a home. It was unfair and I felt tears well up in my eyes. I walked up to the door and ran my hand over it.

"You are my house now. Mine and my sister's. Watch over it for me until I am able to return, okay, Drianna?" The wood beneath my hand was warm and dark and I smiled at it, giving it a small pat before I turned and left the front steps.

I needed to return to my mission and my focus as soon as possible, or else I would be tempted to stay in Skingrad forever. Living quietly in Rosethorn Hall, opening the upstairs doors every morning so I could step out onto the balcony and greet the day; it was the perfect life to me. Far from the hell I was living through then. I shook my head and cast one last glance back at the house before heading up to the large gates of Skingrad and exiting the city walls. There was no time for wishing. I had a place to return to now, once this hell was over with and that was optimism enough to last me for the next several weeks. At least, I hoped it was.

Lore greeted me impatiently and I saddled him quickly. He took off out of the stable yard like a flash, as eager as I was for this ordeal to be over. I leant over his neck and whispered to him, calming him. While it was necessary to make haste, I also wanted to preserve our energy. There was a long road ahead of us yet, some of it over rough terrain and unfamiliar territory, and I needed my horse at his best. He slowed at my command and we made a steady canter the rest of the way to Kvatch.

I knew Martin was right and I should take better care of myself while on the road, but I was afraid of letting him and the rest of Cyrodiil down. If I didn't keep the adrenaline from battle rushing through me, I was worried my whole system would collapse the way it had back at Cloudtop just a few days ago. At least Lore received care and attention while I was busy in the gates and the cities. He was resting, which was all that mattered to me. It meant he was fresh for the fast rides from city to city. Otherwise, I'd have to pay for a change of ride, which would cost time and money. Lore and I trusted one another now. He knew what I wanted and from him and I knew how to coax it out. It was perhaps the first satisfying relationship I'd had with another living being in a long time.

Even as much as I'd loved my sister, as much as it hurt to admit it, we hadn't understood each other. She was light and happiness and I was the dark child; the one our parents didn't know what to do with. The one who was sent away to study the blade and ax at a young age because they all said it was the only thing she would ever be good at. _Look at those broad shoulders, _they said. _Those high cheeks, that proud stature. She won't make any man a wife. She's made for steel and stone. _And they had been right. Drianna had never understood all that. She loved our parents and relatives as much as ever, despite the fact that she cried for two days when they told her I was being sent away. She never knew why I resented them all so. She never could; it was impossible for someone who had been as surrounded by love as she was, even from me, to understand what it felt like to not be loved. Her eyes were shut to the uglier things in life, even after she was cut down by those bandits…

Lore, however, understood the need to survive, the need for food and water and shelter. Most of all, he didn't judge me for my choices. When he saw me kill a bandit or cut down a wild beast without thought, he was never distressed. His eyelashes never fluttered in fear or distaste. More than once he had raised his hooves against one of my assailants when my attention in battle was elsewhere. I patted his neck and continued to whisper soothing words to him. Yes, he was a good horse and companion and I was glad of his company.

* * *

We reached Kvatch in the late afternoon; the sun was glinting off the shards of glass upon the ground all around the crumbling city walls. Most of the inhabitants who had remained after the siege were gathered in small groups at the base of the mountain path. It was little more than a tent town, but it was all the poor citizens of Kvatch had. They had lost everything in the siege- I had been in the city once already and had seen enough to tell me that much. Even buildings that were still partially standing were nothing more than burnt out shells.

Now, standing outside the gates once more, I felt a strange sense of self. So. Kvatch. This was truly where it had all started for me. Everything else- the prison, the amulet, Weynon Priory- all that had been a prelude to my first great test: save Kvatch and rescue Martin.

Yes, this could be a dangerous place for me to return. I steeled myself, making sure the curtain was firmly in place, and pushed the gates open.

The first thing I saw was the chapel, still burning but blessedly silent this time. There were no roars of monsters or screams of the dying, so it was already an improvement upon my last entry. I couldn't see a way to get into the rest of the city, so I headed for the church. Pulling open a door I entered quickly and shut it behind me. I looked about and saw what was left of the guards. Savlian noticed me and waved me over.

"Hero! It is good to see you again- we have great need of you, if you have time to spare."

I smiled and gripped his hand in return. "I have some on my hands at the moment, if you can promise aid to Bruma."

Savlian scowled and nodded. "Aye, we can once we've secured the castle and rescued Count Goldwine. It is imperative to the rebuilding of our city that we ensure his leadership. We have not been able to make it past the demons out there, however, to get into the castle. Will you help?"

For a moment, I was torn. Risk life and limb for this ruined city once more? I thought of how firm Martin had been in seeking the safety of the its citizens. He loved the place, even if I did not. I made my decision. Because he cared for them, I would shepherd them through this difficult time. It was the least I could do, for Martin's sake. He wouldn't have it any other way…and of course, neither would I. My heart was a slave to him already, even if I tried not to acknowledge it- even if I hid those feelings deep.

"Of course, Savlian," I replied. "Where to?"

He grinned and rallied his men, then pointed behind him. "There- the castle gate is some yards from this door. Stick close to me!" With that he was off and running and I found it surprisingly difficult to keep up. Perhaps I was more worn out than I suspected.

Savlian was ahead of me before I could get out the door and he and his men were running willy-nilly, clumped about monsters they had never seen before. It was eerily like leading Burd's men through their first gate at Bruma; or watching Farwil be cut down by dremora. _Oh, Martin, _I gasped, _I do not know how much more of this I can stand. _It took all my strength not to run the other way- or worse yet, cut down Savlian's men before the creatures tore them apart. Surely that would be more merciful.

I stared in horror and, after what was only seconds, replaced my sword with my long bow. In the fray, it would be nearly impossible to use my spells and avoid hitting the other soldiers. It was more likely I would just end up killing everyone in sight- accidentally, of course. I groaned and strung an arrow into the bow, took aim, and began firing.

My aim wasn't perfect, and two soldiers were mauled before I killed the beasts, but Savlian and I finally made it to the castle gates with a handful of men. Then I raised my bow one last time and took down the dremora bowmen posted about the castle parapets. I lowered my arms as Savlian approached me, swearing.

"Damn it! The castle gates are locked- we have to get in through the undercroft now."

I stared at him and slung my bow behind my back. "What do you mean they're locked? Have the monsters taken over the castle- learned how to close doors?"

"I know, I know! But, it seems so," he murmured. "Look, I need you to go back to the chapel. There's no time to talk now. We must save the count!"

I could tell he was worried- he feared not only for the count's life, but for the future of Kvatch. How could I refuse anything he asked now? I steeled myself and swept my gaze about the small clearing; I could not see any immediate dangers and decided that leaving him on his own would be alright.

"Tell me what to do," I said quietly.

His shoulders seemed to sag in relief for the briefest of moments before he answered me. "Go back to the chapel; look for Berich Inian. He's a good soldier and he can help you get through the undercroft to the gatehouse and raise the gate. Understand?"

I merely nodded and was off before he could even respond. There was no time to waste; I knew what I had to do…and what must be done before I could go on and be near my emperor again. Saving the empire could not wait; gathering aid for Bruma could not wait. I had to act swiftly and without regret. I could hear Savlian call after me for a moment and then heard as he gave up and only the roar of remaining fires and beasts filled my ears.

* * *

I reached the chapel doors quickly and they banged open before me. "Inian!" I called out in my haste. "Where is he?" I was pointed in the right direction and crossed the chapel floor swiftly, stopping in front of the man. He looked surprised to see me, but nodded as he heard my request.

"We thought this might happen. Please, follow me. There's no time to lose." Our steps took us down to the undercroft and inside the catacombs. We took out the few monsters who had escaped notice in the subterranean chambers and then were heading up a ladder to the gate house. He left me once I reached the final door and then I was on my own.

The mechanism was perfectly simple and I could hear the gate raising almost as soon as I began turning the crank. Unfortunately, being in the gatehouse delayed me somewhat in reaching the outer courtyard of the castle. I could hear the yells of Savlian's men almost as soon as I heard the creak of the gates, but I wasn't fast enough. By the time I crawled from my space he'd already lost another soldier.

I heard his rallying cries nonetheless and scrambled to help. Arrows flew from my quiver and two more creatures fell dead, joining their brethren on the cold paving stones. I raced to Savlian's side as he motioned towards the front doors of the castle.

"Into the great hall, men! We must save the count!" The few of us that were left followed him into the final bastion of Kvatch: the place Savlian had been certain could be held against the siege.

As soon as we were inside, it was clear we were too late. The castle must have been breached and taken early, along with the rest of the great city. Fire dremora were scattered all about the great entry hall and they began to gather almost as soon as they saw us.

The screams and shouting began anew very soon after that.

I didn't know how long it took us to clear the hall. All I could recall was running from side to side, cutting down what felt like dozens of the damned creatures until the only living beings left in the hall were myself and Savlian. His remaining men were dying on the floor about us and I could see them clearly: begging for mercy, to be put from their misery by a friendly hand. Their pleas cut deeply into my heart.

These soldiers, who had risked so much to free what was left of their already devastated city, now wanted nothing more but to die. To gain the peace they would never know again in their lifetime. To stop living the horrors of their everyday existence.

I understood their wishes well, but I could not lift my sword against them. If it had been one of my own kinsmen I would never have hesitated to do them that honor…but these men barely knew me. I was only their 'hero.' Heroes didn't kill their fallen comrades, they dragged them to safety. They healed them. They gave them hope.

Their cries ringing in my ears, I gave in to my better instincts and brought out my potions and scrolls. Savlian looked at me as if I was insane and I smiled grimly. Martin would be proud of me, I knew. Kvatch had nothing left but its people and they desperately needed its soldiers for protection, for order, for some semblance of normalcy in their lives. I could give them so much by granting just a few men a longer life sentence…especially if my instincts were right and the count was already gone. The castle was in a shambles and my gut was telling me that I was on a mission to save a dead man. Yes, Kvatch would need a great deal of leadership in the future. I kept my suspicions from Savlian, however and pulled out the remainder of the potions.

"Use these for your men. I know you have to stay here. I'll go search for the count," I explained as I pushed the bottles and scrolls into the captain's arms.

"What about yourself? You're injured as well, Hero- we need you in one piece to bring the count back to us!" he objected, even as he accepted the aid. His first concern was for the count, even with his men dying about him.

"Don't think on it, Savlian," I begged. "I have my spells. These men have nothing. Use my stores, please! I can't- I can't stand by and watch them die. I can't do _nothing_ anymore. Now use them and I will be back soon. Farewell!" With that, I dashed away, muttering a quick healing spell over myself as I went, flying across the floor and up the steps: deeper into the charred remains of the castle.

* * *

**To _Anna_: Yes, I fully intend to keep updating…unfortunately, I've just been away for a while. I also have more than one story project I'm working on at the moment, so my updating will continue to be sporadic. However, I enjoy this story and definitely plan to stick with it, no matter how long it takes! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.**

* * *

I sheathed my sword and switched to spells as soon as I was through the door and had entered the interior corridors. I was seeing mostly scamps and more fire daedra, so I pulled a few freezing spells from the depths of my training and managed to fire off several rounds across the room before the creatures detected me.

Time seemed to slow itself as I picked my way amongst the dead bodies of more soldiers; the count's personal guard had failed in their task to keep their lord safe. I wondered if they would find redemption in an afterlife, if they even believed in such things. And now their only hope of salvation rested upon the shoulders of a jaded, dispassionate Nord- and a woman. _If they can see me from whatever afterlife they believed in, it must be a bitter sight for them_, I thought. I raised my hands not only to defend myself against the remaining daedra but also to block the sight of the men from my eyes.

I did not trust myself not to lose my mind amongst the carnage. I wondered if that was how Martin had felt- especially once he'd realized that it had happened because of him. It was no wonder he slept so ill at night- why he had no desire to protect himself- why someone else had to fight for him, for now. He might've given himself up to the creatures, otherwise.

I wondered at myself as well…it was not like me to feel the loss of life so deeply. It wasn't how I was built and yet here I was, in tears over these men like they had been my brothers. In part, I knew, because they were important to Martin. He had loved Kvatch; had loved the new life it had granted him; had loved the people. He would have wept for them, if he could have been there beside me.

I swore under my breath and threw another spell out before sliding my hip dagger in between the last daedra's ribs…if it even had them. Although the heat from its flame burned my hand, I twisted the now red hot metal further in and felt the life of the creature go out before I tore my trembling hand away and let the beast fall to the ground. Its body still shimmered uncertainly with dying flames. I kicked at its body once, viciously, then ripped what was left of the door to Count Goldwine's chamber off its hinges. The count's body greeted me, lying face down on the floor, still dressed in a rich robe, still covered in his jewels and regality. It made me sick. These creatures; they killed for the pleasure of it- not because they were after something- not because they wanted power or money. They killed because they could. And they had destroyed Martin's city in spite of him not even being there. They had continued to kill. I was glad Martin could not see this; I would not tell him of the fate of Kvatch. I would not wish him to know.

And there, standing amidst the smoking rubble of rafters, tapestries, and what was once a very large, very old canopied bed, I registered why I could not hold myself together long enough to do my bloody job.

Then, because I could not bear to voice it aloud- even now, the words hurt my heart so deeply- I grimaced to keep the tears inside and scooped up the Count's broken body.

If I could not deliver the whole, living man, I was not going to let his body burn along with his castle. Savlian would not accept just his ring as proof of his death, either. I knew that full well. The man believed in the salvation of his city too much. It was all he had left. He would cling to it unless I could make him see- and even then, it would inspire hope. Still, I was afraid I would only be delivering one broken man to another.

I arrived back out in the hall, the count's body looking considerably better than it had, but my heart still beat quickly in my chest. I had attempted to clean him up some- the smudges of ash no longer lined his face and his eyes were closed now, instead of staring, horrified, glassy, at nothing. I looked up from his face as I descended the stairs and gazed across the room to Savlian.

I couldn't quite make out his face for the smoke that still lingered in the room, but I saw him take a few steps towards me, hopeful, until I got closer. His face fell and drew itself into a tight expression. It was unreadable and I sighed to myself as I neared him.

"Savlian," I began, but he cut me off. I could see the men gathering about one another. So. He'd used my potions like I'd asked him to. That was something; at least now they wouldn't be with protection or order.

"Was he dead when you found him?" he asked me. I nodded and laid the body down on what was left of a table. It would do for a funeral pyre for now. Then I drew the count's robe up across his face.

I looked back to Savlian and could tell he was struggling with what I had done. I turned to him and held out my armored hand.

"Here," I murmured. He held out his own and I dropped the count's ring into his open palm. "I am sorry, Savlian. There was nothing I could do."

"No- because haven't you done enough already?" he lashed out at me, anger rippling across his face. His hand clenched about the ring and he snarled at me. "Why didn't you come earlier? We could have-"

I cut him off. "We couldn't have done anything!" I yelled at him. "There was nothing to be done- _nothing_," I paused to take a breath. I did not want to fight with this man. He had been through too much already. "Savlian, he was finished before I got there. I am sorry I was too late. Please, forgive me my harsh words."

Savlian reeled back and gazed down at the ring in his palm once more. He knew he had just overstepped himself with me and I could see the pain working its way across his face as he tried to decide how to apologize. I felt tears sting my eyes. This man, apologize to me? How utterly useless.

"What can I do for you now, Captain?" I asked him, putting a comfortable distance between us with the use of his title. He watched me, pale faced for a moment before smiling gratefully.

"There is nothing left for us to do, but rebuild, Hero," he murmured quietly. "But we will need a leader. I do not know how we will survive without one."

"Can Kvatch even spare a few soldiers now?" I returned, putting a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. Again, that grateful smile.

"Aye, we can. I promised you aid for Bruma, Hero. We will deliver. Just give us some time to organize ourselves."

"Will I see you there, Captain?"

He shook his head. "No, I- there is no need for me to be the Captain any longer. It will take time to rebuild the city and I want to help do that. I cannot…I cannot shoulder such a responsibility any longer. I do not deserve it. We all failed in our task."

I began to protest, but he cut me off. "Here, Hero. Take this cuirass. Surely it will help you more than it can help us, now. I have no need of it any longer."

My heart beat painfully as he removed his armor and handed it to me. My reward and my dismissal, I knew, for I could never take up the mantle of order in Kvatch. I had many more quests on my plate before my job as the emperor's champion would be finished. So, I did the only thing I could and thanked Savlian for his generosity.

I spoke to the soldiers gathered with him and wished them all the best of luck in rebuilding. Then, unsure of what I could possibly say further, I left the ruins of the castle and picked my way outside to the city gates. With one final glance at the remaining towers of Castle Goldwine and the chapel, I pushed open the gates and left Kvatch for the second time in less than a month. My heart was just as heavy as it had ever been.

* * *

From Kvatch, it was a steady ride across to the coast and Anvil, where I successfully defeated another gate and secured more aid for Bruma. I paused on the road back up North to Chorrol for a brief rest. While I didn't like wasting any more time, I knew it was necessary. Lore was tired, I could tell, and based on my performance in Kvatch I needed some sleep and food.

We camped just a hillside away from the road in the hopes that any bandits would ignore us and kept the fire burning at embers only. Lore actually laid down next to me for once, instead of sleeping on his feet as he tended to do. I was surprised and ran my hand along his mane. Was he alright? Was I feeding him enough, giving him enough time to rest?

The answer was no, but he whuffed into my hand affectionately like always and rolled his eyes at me before laying down his head and falling into an easy sleep. I continued to stroke his neck in the dim evening light. I wondered what he had seen before becoming my horse. As a monk's steed, what sorts of stories could he tell? Where had he gone? Whom had he met?

He snorted in his sleep and I smiled at him fondly. "I am sorry, Lore," I murmured. "Once we get back to Cloud Top I will let you rest in the stables there for a long while. I doubt that my job is over, but I have taxed you too far as it is."

Then, content with our position and the small meal that warmed both our bellies, I too lay my head back and closed my eyes, welcoming sleep.

A few hours later, I was awoken with a start by rats who had found their way into the food left over in the embers of the fire and were steadily making their way into my sack of stores. They squealed with alarm when they saw me and immediately I was up and awake, my sword ready. Lore was also shaken by the commotion and he scrambled to stand as I cut the creatures down swiftly.

After kicking one over to assure myself the disease infested rodents were dead, I turned to Lore and soothed him. Putting away my sword, I bent to retrieve what was left of the food and wrapped it tightly in the old linen sack. Perhaps I could find a stream to wash it off in later. I snorted to myself. It would make more sense to throw it away now that it had been compromised, but I could not bear to waste food. Lore shared my concern and sniffed at the bag. I looked up into his gentle eyes.

"Are you still hungry, boy?" I asked. "I'm sorry- we'll have to wait until we get to Chorrol to pick up new supplies, unless you want to graze for a bit here." Though I gestured to the wild grasses and flowers around us, he turned up his nose at nature's offerings and I laughed wryly. "Alright, then, but don't complain later. I gave you the chance," I muttered before tightening his girdle and mounting. His hooves stamped out whatever was left of the fire and we crested the hill down to the road.

Travel was not easy; I had opted to retrace the Imperial road only as far as Skingrad and from there to cut up through the wooded hillsides until we reached Chorrol. It was almost a direct line from Skingrad to the Northern city and I didn't want to waste any more time. Aside from the occasional wild animal, bandit, and craggy hill, I didn't expect the crossing to be much trouble. However, as I knew that Lore was not doing as well as I'd previously thought, I was concerned for him at first. He seemed to be holding up well as the day progressed, though, and as long as I kept us at a reasonable pace he was as docile and even keeled as ever. In fact, I was more concerned with myself than him…by the time we reached Hackdirt, nearly halfway between Skingrad and Chorrol, I was shaking in my boots. Lore remembered the place as well, I could tell. His ears flattened back and he bared his teeth as we skirted the outside of the small, now deserted, town.

There is no erasing evil once it has made someplace its home.

Still, the sun remained high in the sky despite our grim surroundings and we soon made our way past the dismal place, breaking out finally into the fields just outside Chorrol. It was early afternoon- taking the Imperial roads as far as we had was a smart idea. As I dismounted outside of Chorrol, I looked from Lore to the stables and back again. He was gazing with ardor at the hay that was piled just inside the fences and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Would you like to stay in Chorrol for a bit, then?" I murmured to him, patting his neck. He whinnied in response and I gladly opened the gate to usher him in. After whispering a few more soothing words to him, I exited, closing the gate after me, and dropped a few coins in the stable owner's hand. Then, content that my horse and closest friend was in the best of hands, I walked forward into the city gate. The sky rumbled low about the walls and I could just see a red light in the distance.

One more gate to close and I could set about to Martin's task for me. My heart lifted in my chest and I smiled to myself. _Just this one more and you can be near him again. _Once inside the city, I ran all the way to the castle, eager for my penultimate audience with yet another ignorant vassal of the Empire.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

I looped Lore's reins around a tree branch and peered through the crumbling pillars and tall grasses towards what could only be Sancre Tor. My meeting in Chorrol had gone well and I had succeeded in gathering aid for Bruma from every major city in Cyrodiil save the capital. I still wasn't happy about the Chancellor, but I understood his position. He truly had no other choice. Just as I had no other choice as I now faced Martin's most recent task.

Something moved in the mist on the mountain and I started forward slowly from Lore's side. He whinnied uneasily and I waved a hand backwards at him, signaling him to be quiet. These were dangerous places we were in now and I couldn't afford to lose my only companion. In addition to being a friend, Lore was my swiftest ride back to Cloud Top. I highly doubted the local mountain lions were agreeable to passengers.

As it was, however, I doubted even more that there were any mountain lions in the area- or any other living creatures. The same tense, slinking aura of nastiness that surrounded Hackdirt was present in this place, too. My mind wandered over Martin's description of the fort: it had once been the home of the Blades and Emperor, the oldest known resting place and memorial to the Empire in all of Cyrodiil. But it had been over run with an evil necromancy many, many years ago and now no one dared enter its gates. It was kept locked and the key guarded by the head of the Blades himself: Jauffre.

The precious key which kept such evil from roaming Cyrodiil at will…which now lay about my neck on a strip of cloth I'd torn from my hemline. I would have worried about defaming its importance with such an action, except that when you're a hero, you tend to stop worrying about how things look. I could have cared less what Jauffre thought of my hanging the key about my neck like it was a road stand bauble. I wasn't doing any of these things for him, after all.

I was startled from my musings by a sudden movement to my left and I turned just in time to draw my sword and slice through a skeleton warrior. My heart didn't even have time to race with excitement before I was watching the now destroyed bones fall to the ground. I decided to leave my sword unsheathed after that and started forward impassively once more. It was a miracle I'd remembered to even pack my magically charged weapons at all for the trip. I much preferred cold blades of steel and iron to those that crackled with electricity and magic. I had no use for mages, wizards or anyone else who thought he could rule the forces of nature. Show me a man who wields magic and I will show you a corpse. Perhaps it was my Nordic blood which gave me a better fighting chance against such men, an immunity to magic, if you will, but I would never put much store by the practice. I used it myself because I had to; the plains of Oblivion were unforgiving to non magic users. I had seen enough corpses in those hellish lands to believe I need either use my spells or die where I stand.

I walked forward more aware, but no more concerned. I was facing demons every other day of the week; why would I be worried about a little, cursed, damned, necromancy filled fort?

I paused and peered through to the building once more, securing myself behind one of the broken stones. Crouching down, I waited…what I was waiting for, I wasn't sure. My courage to return, perhaps. Although I was used to skeletons and demons, the nearer I drew to the heavy oak doors of the locked fort, the weaker my knees grew. It was inexplicable that I should be so terrified of a legend. Why, no Blade had entered the premises for near on centuries. Why should I be so frightened of mere rumors? There was no telling what actually lay beyond the doors; for all anyone knew the demonic presence which had filled the halls so many years ago had long since departed.

I willed my courage to return and stood again, shakily, glancing over my shoulder one last time before heading forward again. I could not see Lore through the debris and mist any longer, but I knew he was there. I only hoped I had tied him up far enough away so that he would not be in danger. Had I remembered to heal him after our stay in Chorrol? No, there was no time to go back and check now. If I turned from the task at hand I might never return to it, I knew. The truth was, I had no idea what to expect in those halls…but Martin would never purposefully lie to me. Which meant if he thought the place was still dangerous and did not relish asking me to complete the task for him, I ought to listen to my instincts. And my instincts were telling me to run back to Lore as fast as possible and ride him hard all the way back to Skyrim. My mouth quirked in a smile and I felt hysteria trying to bubble its way past my lips.

_No, _I told myself, _concentrate. You have done so much already. This is just another path on the road to salvation. Focus and keep at it. It will be over soon. _I shook my head to regain my focus and suddenly found myself before the locked doors of Sancre Tor. Blinking, I took a deep breath and ripped the key from about my neck, muttering a quick prayer to the All-Maker before quickly inserting the key into the lock and turning it. Then, with a mighty shove, I opened the doors, pushing them across the darkened threshold of the damned fortress.

* * *

I was not prepared for the icy blast of air which greeted me. It was cold and smelled foul, like old bones and dead rats. It rushed past me in a belch as the fresh air crept inside and lifted the hem of my cuirass, blowing the hood from my head. I lifted the cloth over my hair again and raised my sword high by my side before continuing inside. The halls were not as dark as I had initially thought; after my eyes adjusted to the entrance, I realized an unearthly glow seemed to pulse from some unseen source. I remained in a thieving stance. Although I knew that anything supernatural was bound to see me regardless of any spells I cast or my creeping ways, I felt safer- more cautious- in the crouched position. More ready to fight at a moment's notice.

I hefted my sword a little higher and continued on. In truth, though they were occasionally interesting places to loot, the old forts were complete mazes to me. They made me yearn for the uncomplicated forts of my native Northern lands and the simple wooden and stone buildings with their great halls and upstairs bedrooms. The buildings of Cyrodiil were round and full of stairs and pillars and hallways which went nowhere, filled with nooks and crannies anyone could hide in- and successfully ambush me from. I hated them. They made my skin crawl and Sancre Tor was doing an even better job than the usual fare did.

I disposed of a few more undead skeletons before I made my way through the underground hallways to what was once the great hall of the fort. Glancing around, I cautiously picked my forward through the lingering cobwebs and grimy passages into the large, domed space. I paused at the head of some stairs and looked ahead into the dim, wavering light and could see another staircase across a wide, open floor that led up to some kind bridge walkway.

There was a movement upon that floating walkway- an ethereal figure appeared to be pacing back and forth, but it had yet to spot me. I watched it for a few seconds more, debating on my next action. Should I tackle the cursed spirit now or wait until I had explored more of the ruined fort? I decided upon the former and started my cautious walk down the stairs and across the empty floor.

There was no denying it now; I was genuinely frightened of the thing I was heading for. How could I not be? Any intelligent warrior feels some degree of fright upon encountering an enemy for the first time…especially a new enemy as strange and powerful as the thing I was certainly heading for.

Anything not immediately recognizable beyond the normal undead skeletons and liches was probably very old and very strong and I was right to be concerned. I felt naked and very alone in the middle of that bare space, staring up the staircase that would take me to my newest trial. I could hear the murmuring, disquieted voices of the spirits that had died within Sancre Tor's walls and my heart skipped a beat. _Oh, Martin_, I whispered to the ethers of my mind, _what have you asked of me this time? And how do you know me so well, to be certain I will do whatever you beg of me? _For I knew that if he could have helped it, he would never ask such horrors of me again; not after the bile which spewed from my mouth during my fever a week ago. Still, I would walk to the ends of the earth and back if he asked me to. My loyalty…and my heart…were my emperor's.

My fear, however, was desperately real and the rate at which the heart that belonged to Martin was beating was far too fast for my own good. I climbed the steps slowly and hesitated as I reached the top. Hefting my shield a little higher, I held my sword in front of me and climbed the last steps to stand on the landing. Down the walkway I could see the ghostly figure pacing, carrying its own sword and shield and blocking a gate at the end of the platform.

I didn't know then if I would need to get past him for any particular purpose, but I was certain that the suffering remains needed to be destroyed. It was no ordinary undead that walked so steadily in front of me. I recognized the armor it bore and realized it must be a cursed Blade, dead these many years and forced to walk the empty, defamed halls of Sancre Tor.

I moved forward, careful to avoid detection and lifted my blade higher in order to strike a heavy blow.

At the last minute the creature turned and seemed to stare directly at me. I lost my footing. My armor clanked against itself and the spell was broken. I felt my opponent's blow like iron to my sides and quickly regained my footing. I brought my shield up just in time to avoid another unlucky blow from the undead and swung my sword out wide. From the shriek of horror that reached my ears I knew I had struck my first blow.

But the creature was not dead. I barely managed to parry another attack before it had raised it's sword again- I felt my breath coming quick and shallow and knew I was losing ground. The thing was attacking without pause, effortlessly, aided by his murderous, necromancy strength.

Then it happened. I felt his blade pierce my armor and the tip drive home to my ribs. _No! _Martin's voice rang through my head as the shock of what had happened invaded my body along with a searing pain. I couldn't help but swear. _Get out of my mind! You asked this of me, now let me do my bloody job! _I demanded, teeth clenched around silent screams. I lifted my shield with my floundering strength and brought it down hard upon the arm which carried his sword. The blade was ripped from my body with a deathly screech as the arm I'd hit fell from the monster's side. I looked up into the thing's eyes and drove my own blade through its weakened body even as blood began pouring from my side.

With a final groan, I collapsed to my knees as the skeletal, undead body fell to dust on the ground. I sat abruptly on my heels and dropped my shield to press one armored hand to the hole in my side. I felt faint, but I managed to mutter a healing spell that was enough to patch the skin together. It would have to do for now- just enough to stop the bleeding until I could pull out my potions. _Thank the All-Maker I bought more when I was in Chorrol_, I sighed to myself. _At least the blade didn't pierce my ribcage. Then I probably would have died. I might yet, even, _I thought and wheezed some in lieu of a chuckle.

There was a sudden motion in front of me and I brought my sword up again, only to meet with air. I looked up and realized that there truly was a ghost in front of me now. He looked down at me, eyes peering out from under a helmet- the spirit of a Blade.

He spoke, and I could do nothing but listen, eyes wide and mouth closed in a thin line against the pain and the fear.

I would only wonder later: if Martin had known what he was truly asking of me that night at Cloud Top, would he have let me go?

I was one woman, a Nord and unfamiliar with such horrific things. I had faced werewolves and Hircine and the Uderfrykte, but I did not know of the Underking. And I was bound by more than duty now to find out.


	11. Chapter 11

It was difficult not to tremble as I listened to Rielus, as he had once been called. The Blade's ghost made short shrift of the matter of his imprisonment on this plane and the state of Sancre Tor. It would be no easy task to free the other cursed Blades and set them to lift the spell of the Underking.

I did not know the name, but its sound crept stealthily through my veins, chilling me. It was obvious enough to even the most uneducated pauper that this was a name that should be feared and reviled, but the ghost would tell me nothing more. Only that the Underking was an evil beast that may have been man, once. I did not blame Rielus for not telling me the entire story because my duty was clear: free the spirits and retrieve the armor. That was all that was required of me; a fact I was suddenly grateful for. There would be plenty of time for researching Cyrodiil's history with the terrible specter later on. For now, I had work to do…though that work was not frightless in itself.

Freeing one Blade did nothing to lift the deathly pallor of the fortress and the walls still glowed with an unearthly, unholy light. I could hear sounds just beyond the limits of my senses that shrieked and moaned their way past my mind: the calls of the dead and beings long lost to humanity. They were trapped here in this place and it frightened me a great deal. Still, there was no time for speculations or indulgences of my childlike fear. There was only enough time to take another swig from my health potions bottle and move forward, hoping for the best. If I had truly believed in the gods of Skyrim I would have _prayed_. Anything to get out of this accursed place.

A pain twitched in my muscles, sending a spasm down my side. It burned in the ribs Rielus had unwittingly taken a swing at earlier and I hurriedly guzzled that last of the healing potion before starting up the next hallway. Perhaps, in fact, a switch of weapons would be in order. Clearly, they handled swords better than I gave them credit for. They were unbelievably strong and quick- blunt force was the only thing that would finish them quickly. I made my choice and swung my blade around, sliding it back into its sheath before unhooking the mace from my belt.

I hefted it up into one hand and gave a few experimental swings before I pulled my shield closer into my body and began creeping forward again. Blunt weapons weren't my best to begin with and of them the _axe_ was my favored tool, but most of my axes would have required me going without a shield. In Sancre Tor, walking around without a shield would have been suicide. So, I held the mace at ready and continued moving.

It wasn't until I had freed the next Blade that I realized what the sinister fort reminded me of. I encountered him in another hall and he was hideous and nearly indestructible as the first. I fought hard against him to release the cursed man's spirit and it earned me another set of bruised ribs and a very painful wound across my upper thigh. Though the battle was as crippling as the first had been, I still dispatched the monster more quickly than before; and our introduction was brief before Valdemar's spirit was moving away from me- through the walls and towards the burial chamber. He was as reluctant to speak as Rielus had been and I was glad for it- I was too busy nursing my aching body to care what the devils had to tell me. As long as he gave me the armor later, I would have battled Count Hassildor if necessary.

I groaned and rubbed my newly bruised side again before casting a small healing spell. The magic glowed weakly in my hand and spread out along my leg before flickering out. I sighed and tried again, nearly sick with relief when I saw the magic finally take hold and begin its work. The terror which had gripped me earlier, outside the dreadful fortress, beat through my heart once again; it warmed my cheeks and muddled my thoughts. I was sick, I was alone. I knew I daren't hesitate another moment and cast the healing spell yet again. Then I struggled to my knees and caught my breath as I tried to stand.

There, while kneeling in an alarmingly growing pool of my own blood, memories of my childhood returned. The noises and atmosphere of Sancre Tor reminded me of the time when I was girl on Solstheim, when the other children dared me to enter a barrow that was reputedly haunted by the walking dead. Being young and desperate to make friends, even with mean spirited whelps, I had taken the dare with a brave glare upon my face.

The barrow had been icy cold with the presence of the dead encased in their tombs of ice and centuries old magic. It had been difficult to see anything out of the ordinary about the burial place at first, but as my eyes had adjusted I came to understand why the adults made us children swear never to play in or near the barrows. They were sacred to our ancestors and protected from all intruders, even the descendants of the families buried inside. And myself, as a girl only distantly related to the Skaal, stood little chance to be tolerated by anything that dwelt within those dreadful caves. For months after the incident, I tortured myself with the question: did the other children realize that when they sent me in to meet my fate so easily? It was unanswerable, for soon after I was found, rescued and brought to good health again, I was secluded from the others. I no longer had playmates; only my training kept me company afterwards.

A noise behind me in the hall startled me and I spun around suddenly, slicing another rat in two without thinking. I turned slowly back to my course to locate the other Blades and smiled grimly. Perhaps those horrid, lonely years on Solstheim had prepared me in more ways than the one. Had my trainer and mentor known what I was to face later in my life? Had my fate been foretold by the medicine woman and the shaman? There was no telling, honestly, but it strengthened my heart and courage to know that the brats I had grown up with had actually done me a favor by pushing me into danger.

The third warrior I encountered went down quickly under my mace and I murmured a grateful prayer over his bones even as his spirit attempted to speak to me. Then Casner took off through the catacomb walls as his predecessors had done. I stared at his retreating figure for only a moment before I squeezed my hand into a fist and muttered yet another spell. I could feel the blood from my wound pooling beneath my armor, making my slacks stick to my skin. It was a very unpleasant feeling and the warmth I'd felt upon my brow earlier had only grown more insistent. If I didn't leave Sancre Tor soon, I was certain Martin really never would see me again, as he feared. Not that it mattered much how he thought he felt- about me or my mission. It had little to do with him; he sat cozily in the hall of Cloud Ruler making sorrowful noises over my journeys with a book on his lap and mead at his fingertips…his hair unkempt because he hadn't bathed in days, so taken with his books…bags under his eyes because he would only sleep when Jauffre made him…

I stopped myself and beat my chest a bit to unclog the sudden buildup in my throat that would prevent me breathing properly.

Other people called it tears…I called it weakness. I shut my eyes and pulled myself upright. The pain was getting to be blinding, despite my best efforts. So- the prison next. I pulled a map from my belt and stared hard at it, blinking furiously. Where was I now? Ah, the catacombs. A shiver ran down my spine and I shrugged it off. Truly, this was exactly like my time in the barrow- undead attacking, their grisly, half rotted faces smiling at me in murderous delight. I shivered again and forced myself to remember Lore. Who knew how he was, tied up by himself? No doubt a wolf would find him soon, if not already. And then where would my only companion be with no way to defend himself, no way to run off?

Putting the map away and hanging a small lantern at my belt, I stepped back into the shadows, leaving the wretched place the way I'd come. I would find the prisons soon enough. Time began to pass quickly, in a blur. It wasn't long before I ceased to be aware of which corners I had turned and which hallway I should have taken, two doorways back. The trail behind me was littered with dead creatures and the remains of ghosts; some of my own doing and some which seemed to have been there for decades. Eventually I was able to put out my lantern because the glow from the walls seemed to grow stronger the deeper into the fortress I went.

Then, without warning, something whooshed through the air by my head. I stuck out my shield in front of me, unsure of what was happening. It came again, more quickly and suddenly a blow landed on the arm carrying the shield. I let out a howl of pain and flung my own mace out to meet the attacker. How had I missed the skeleton who now battled me? He had been right in front of me; clearly he had seen me coming a mile away, or heard me. How could I have let my guard down so much? I swung my mace back and forth widely, hearing it smash into the bones before me with satisfying crunches. Then, just as quickly as the battle had begun, I heard the creature topple to the floor in a heap. I lowered my shield arm gingerly and surveyed the damage to myself and the creature. He was gone, whatever he'd been, and I lay the mace down to loot his body. Finding a key, but nothing else of interest, I settled back on my heels and picked up the mace again before looking to my arm once more. It was at an odd angle in the straps of the shield and appeared to swelling a little. I flexed the muscles gingerly and was rewarded with another blinding pain, worse than the slow burn that was flushing my cheeks.

Wonderful. How was I supposed to carry a weapon, lantern, supplies, shield, the armor of Tiber Septim _and _ride a goddamned horse with a broken arm? I howled with pain and rage once more before I threw the shield down. It was also bent out of shape and yanked the already torn arm about before sliding uselessly to the ground. Well. Since I was already well on my way to dying, I might as well make sure I could at least hold the blasted artifact in my crippled hand. Broken or not, that was one thing my fingers could still do, but it wouldn't happen if I was carrying a shield. I clasped my hand tight around the mace, used the last of my magic for a brief and mostly useless healing spell, and stood up.

Bracing myself against the wall, I made my way to the cell the damned skeleton had been guarding and opened it slowly, hefting the mace as high as I could, ready to bring it down on the head of whatever lay beyond the doorway. There was a terrible clanking sound and I knew I'd found the last of the Blades. His feet were barely out the door, turning towards me before I'd swung the mace down upon him with all the might left me. He gave a mighty groan and stumbled back, giving me enough time to raise the mace and bring it down once more with a crash to his ancient helmet.

Dismay covered my face as I realized he'd stumbled just out of reach of my good arm. With an excited cackle, the thing swept back towards me, his sword raised. I swept my broken arm back, desperately searching for the shield I had discarded so hastily. Even with the pain stinging my eyes, my teeth biting through my lip to stop my tortured scream, I found it: my hands closed over the bent piece of metal and brought it swinging up before me. His sword met stone as my shield flew forward, tearing into his bones and scattering them. Then, with the last of my strength, I heaved myself forward onto him and beat my mace down on his cracked skull. It grinned up at me terribly as the life left his bones and I shuddered as the only thing that was holding me up fell to the ground.

I threw myself back against the wall and sank to the floor. My arm was even more twisted than before, the wound on my leg had torn open. I shuddered again and looked up to find the ghost of the Blade standing over me, offering a hand to me. I laughed weakly.

"Go on," I croaked. "I will find you."

He looked at me uncertainly before heading off, the same as his brothers at arms. I wondered, briefly, what would happen to me if I died on the floor of the fortress' dim prisons. Would I also become a cursed undead Blade? Or had my freeing them all freed them totally from the tyranny of the spell? I searched deep within my shivering frame for the will to live, found it, and hung on for dear life. I dropped the mace from my good hand and used the appendage to claw at the wall behind me, looking for purchase. It found a ledge and I leveraged myself to unsteady feet. Staring down at the mace blankly, I shrugged and then turned, still grasping the wall, to leave the blasted spot.

There was work yet to do. I still had to find the final burial hall and retrieve the armor…as long as the Blades could work the spell loose. Gasping in pain as the injured arm dangled at my side, I continued to creep along the walls and corridors, up and down stairs, until I finally reached the chamber. I was feeling fainter with every yard I managed- the blood must have been pouring slowly from the wound in my leg, but I could feel nothing in it except a numbness that frightened me desperately. I shook my head to clear it of cobwebs and nearly fell over. Without thinking I flung my useless limb at the wall in an effort to steady myself and howled with rage as fire burned up through my shoulder, down my back and into my skull.

_Martin, you son of a bitch,_ I seethed. _You'll be lucky if you ever see me again after this- and you, telling me to be careful! _I forced my ribs in and out so that my shoulders wouldn't lift with my breathing, but only rediscovered the bruising that now covered half my side. Wincing, I turned back to the door ahead of me, determined to forget Martin for the moment. Thinking of him would bring me no help, do me no good- it was as useless as my arm. He knew the dangers, he had warned me and whether I'd taken heed and had a good night's sleep the previous day would most likely make no difference now.

I was in no man's land, now…Sancre Tor was dangerous until the curse was lifted and it would have nearly killed me whether I'd gone in on a full stomach and plenty of healing potions or not. Of that much I was certain. I resolved myself once more and leaned against the door before me, shoving it open slowly. Taking stock of the situation ahead of me, I could see the heart of the evil glowing brightly at the end of the large rectangular room. On either side of it the spirits were lined up, prepared for whatever it was they must do…I approached Rielus slowly, stumbling only a few times before collapsing to my knees nearby. I called to him.

"I am here! What do you require…of me?" I managed to choke out the last portion and his ghost turned to stare at me.

"Nothing is required now, brave warrior. Now we will lift the curse and restore the sanctity of the hall and shrine. Stay back," he ordered me sternly and returned to his place.

No sooner had he knelt to join his brothers than a bright light filled the room, their whispers echoing all around me. I shuddered and closed my eyes against the magic I was witnessing. There was a mighty wail, as if something was in great pain or agony, and then silence descended upon the shrine. I took my hand from my eyes and leaned heavily on the good arm, gazing about me. The Blades remained in their places, but the scent of evil was gone from the place. I took a small breath and then lifted my weakened frame to its feet before taking several shuddering steps down the stairs and into the chamber where the armor lay. I looked from the pieces to my useless arm and back before lifting the suit one handed and shoving under my good arm.

I was utterly defenseless until I could get out to Lore and pack the damned artifact away. The situation would have been laughable if I wasn't already aware that I was dying.

I drifted past the Blades who were resolved to stay and continue guarding the sanctuary. Nodding my thanks to them, I passed back through the door into the outer hall where there were more steps to climb and more hallways to maneuver through. I took each step slowly, careful of my waning health. I had to preserve as much strength as I could for the road that still lay ahead. I had to make my way back through the mountains up to Cloud Ruler, yet, and I'd be damned if I came so far only to die now. Martin needed me, regardless of his feelings for me…or mine for him. I limped my way back to the entry and shoved against it with all my might.

The door gave way and I stumbled out into the mist; the sun was filtering through softly among the trees and fog of the mountain. It was a welcome and surprising sight after what felt like hours in the wretched tomb of a fortress. I felt my body shudder with delight at the fresh air and prospect of water, sleep and, most importantly, food and potions for healing. As I leaned against the open door and took my first step back into reality and relative safety, I felt my legs finally give way.

_No! Just a few more yards- Lore is just beyond that wall, there! Oh, mercy- Lady Azura, help me! _My thoughts ran amok in my head as I panicked. I could barely lift myself to my hands and peer upwards, my body was so weak. The armor of a god and king lay beside me in a dusty heap, glittering blandly on the ground. I felt tears threaten once again and willed them away, but it was too late. The panic had done its job and I could feel hopelessness beating at the edges of my already erratic pulse. If I could only just…

There was a whinny somewhere above me and I shielded my face with my good hand, wondering if I had missed some horror outside the fortress- another skeleton, a bandit, perhaps a ghostly horse? Then there was a warmth upon my arm, nuzzling below it to reach my face and I nearly laughed.

Whiskers- real, live whiskers- belonging to my real, live horse. Lore was alive. He was safe and had managed to tear himself free of the tree limb, as he usually did. For the first time in weeks I praised his ornery nature and allowed him to check me, nuzzling me all over with his lips and teeth, looking to make sure I was still alright.

"Lore, closer, boy," I whispered to him hoarsely. I needed to reach the pouch on his back, for it contained the rest of my stock of potions and food. I would need to heal myself as best as possible before even trying to mount him and ride him to Cloud Ruler. Using his saddle as leverage, I pulled myself up and tugged several bottles and packages from the bag before collecting the armor and awkwardly storing it in their place. He whinnied joyfully, glad to see me standing. I managed a weak smile and patted his nose before downing several bottles in a row. Wine, mead, and mostly potions made their way to my stomach before I even looked at the loaf of bread and hunk of cheese I'd been saving. I tucked them into a side pocket and waited a moment for the magic to take effect.

Not surprisingly, it didn't heal all my injuries, but it helped with the pain enough that I could swing myself up into the saddle (with the help of a nearby rock) and tug my sword from its sheath before settling into my seat. I stroked Lore's neck once more and handed him a carrot before I urged him forward. Only when we were back on a recognizable road and had left the wolves and other dangerous creatures behind us did I evaluate the damage to my leg and arm more closely. The potions had stopped the bleeding in my thigh, but I could still see the veins pulsing beneath the wound, which had turned the nasty black color of too much congealed blood. The edges looked torn and it was no wonder I'd finally collapsed back at Sancre Tor. It was a miracle I hadn't collapsed earlier, inside.

Sighing and patting a cloth at the wound as much as I could, I finally packed it in and pulled my armor back over it. I would have to deal with it later. As for my arm, I daren't move it anymore than I had already, or the bone might move even farther out of place. I didn't have the training necessary to save myself the pain of re-breaking and resetting it later on, so I left it. We made our steady and painful way ever further up the mountains and I continued to make soothing noises to my horse, reassuring him of my presence. He seemed skittish and nervous of my injuries, as though he were worried for me. I did my best to speak gently to him as I was able, for the breath was still coming slowly to me and my throat felt parched.

I no longer cared for what Martin might think of my appearance when he finally saw me; for me, now, there was only the mission and I was only the Emperor's champion. I had seen death full in the face this time and it had scared me. If I didn't want the same fate for thousands of innocents; if I didn't want it to visit itself upon my beloved Martin- for I could call him my beloved, now- I had to make myself strong and focused.

There was no time for anything else. Only my work. Only saving the empire.

Lore seemed to sense my resolve and my waning strength and he hurried forward into a clip, his ears laying back across his head and his mouth pulling at the bit. I let him lead, for once.

For once, I agreed with him. _Yes, _I thought wearily, _let us go meet our King, triumphant and worthy. And let us trouble him not. _


	12. Chapter 12

Martin was dismayed when he saw me upon my return. I had done my best to avoid him, avoid going into the great hall, but Jauffre had refused to deliver the armor for me. The insufferable man had insisted that it was my job; that as I had retrieved it, I should deliver it and nothing else would do; despite the fact that I was limping, red faced, breathing hard and one arm was dangling precariously at my side.

I almost wished I had some excuse for killing the bastard, then.

But, I did as I was told and wandered into the hall with Jauffre trailing after me to meet Martin. He stood up from his table as soon as he saw me and the relief he displayed was a great comfort to me…until I got closer and my wounds were clear to him. He tried to speak to me about them, to apologize even as I was handing him the armor, but I cut him off brusquely…and perhaps a little unkindly. His apologies were of no use to me, for both of us knew that no matter how badly he felt for the dangers I was enduring; in another twenty-four hours he would have yet some other task for me. It was a frustrating position for us both, but there was no way out of what we were to one another: master and servant.

I finally dumped the armor on the table in front of him, mindless of his books, and turned to leave the hall. If he was going to be ridiculous about my injuries, there was no point in waiting around to hear him. My time would be better spent in recovery. I told him as much and left the hall without a backward glance. Though I could hear him calling after me, his voice commanding for once, I ignored it and continued on into the barracks of the temple. There I would find rest and first aid for my aching arm and thigh.

Caroline, who helped me dress my wounds, looked at me rather severely and I glared at her sullenly from the chair she'd made me sit in.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to wring out another bloody rag. "Nothing, Katherine," she murmured. I could tell she wanted to speak, though, and I encouraged her to voice her opinions freely. If I allowed my fellow Blades to persist in being scared of me, I would never learn anything about my future tasks.

"You disapprove of my tactics?" I questioned her.

She shook her head. "That's not it."

"What, then?" I hissed in pain as she peeled back the blood soaked slacks from my leg.

"It's the way you treat Martin," she replied softly, attempting to be more gentle in her ministrations. I caught my breath as she softly wiped away the congealed blood and body fluids that had built up around the wound.

"I don't know- what you mean." I winced and threw my head back, trying not to see stars as the pain swept over me again.

She left off her accusations when she saw the pain I was in. "Katherine…this wound is very bad. It may take days to heal- not to mention your arm…"

I looked down at the offending limb and grimaced. It was swathed in some sort of plaster and she had wrapped fresh linens about it and around my neck, cinching the arm close in to my torso so it wouldn't move.

"Can't some potions- or my magicka-"

She shook her head again. "No, Katherine. I already told you. You need to rest and regain all your strength before you dare deplete your stores any more. The exertions could kill you."

And that was all she would hear on the matter. That was how I found myself idle, four days later, standing at the battlements of the temple and leaning upon a crutch.

That was how Baragon found me.

And that was also how, with a very little encouragement on my part, we tumbled into a spare bed in the barracks later that afternoon while no one else was around. We were a tangle of lips and arms and tongues, gasping and writhing and pulling at one another with little heed to my bandages. It was just the way I liked sex: rough and quick- stolen amidst a day's hard work. It didn't take long before both of us were nearly naked and well on our way to pleasing our aching bodies; and my compact, Breton partner was well schooled in the ways of quick love making, it seemed.

That was how Martin found us.

* * *

I hadn't seen him in days, not since I had walked out on him in the great hall, and I could tell by the expression on his face that this was the last place he'd expected to find me…figuratively, of course. It almost made me giggle. For all he talked of a dark and brooding past, he seemed to know very little of the mercenary lifestyle.

And then I realized he was quite serious. He didn't even have to say anything to my companion; Baragon was up and out of the room even before he had tied his armor back on. I turned my head away from his retreating back and looked up at Martin, pulling the blanket over my exposed body with my arm.

"Katherine…" he whispered, his face turned away from me, eyes averted.

My eyes narrowed at his tone of voice. It was almost chastising. "Emperor," I replied evenly, determined not to let him make me feel bad. It was not I, after all, who had the luxury of sitting in a room studying books all day. Some of us had terrifying existences and sex would always be one of the best ways I knew how to expunge the horrors from my mind.

He couldn't keep his eyes from me at hearing my voice and looked at me. It was with surprise that I registered the hurt upon his face…and anger.

"How could you?"

I stood suddenly and I could tell he was taken aback by the motion. I stood at least as tall as he and my bare hips were exposed by the narrow blanket. "How could I what?" I asked, unwilling to pussy foot around the matter- whatever it was that was bothering him.

He frowned. "Engage in such immoral, inappropriate-"

"Excuse me?" I asked, feeling my own anger rise. Who was he to lecture me on immoral behavior after he told me himself he had led a dark and vile youth?

"You heard me, Katherine," he responded coldly. "Your behavior here is humiliating to myself and your station- not to mention the station of every one of your fellow Blades! You cannot consort with your fellow officers in such a manner!"

"Then who am I to consort with?" I responded, my expression cool.

"Do not speak to me that way! You have no idea the humiliation you have brought upon yourself!" he growled at me and I stepped back, suddenly fearful of Martin for the first time since I'd known him. He moved forward, matching my stride and reached a hand towards me, trying to stop my movement. His hand fell upon my yet broken arm and I gave a shout of pain and felt my knees buckle, sending me to the ground in a heap. He immediately withdrew his hand, sorry for his action and stepped away.

For the first time since I'd been initiated to the ways of womanhood, I felt shame. I looked down at myself, at my state of undress and how I must look to him- my emperor. Tears pricked my eyes before I felt the anger bubbling in me once again. What right had he to tell me how to act? I risked my life for an unknown cause every day of my life- surely I deserved to indulge in life's simpler pleasures every once in a while. Never mind the contempt he so obviously felt for my true nature- a loving, sensual being able to let her guard down when in bed…perhaps he did not find my body pleasing; perhaps he preferred his celibate existence to a woman's warmth. I glared up at him, not bothering to conceal my body or my hurt.

"I'm sorry my behavior displeases you, Martin, but I am only one of your Blades in name. I took the title so I could do my real job better, which amounts to no more than slavery for the cause of the Empire. If my sexuality- if the pleasure I derive from it is unpleasant to you, then pretend it does not happen! I answer to no man or god on this plane." Cradling my broken arm even closer to my body, I turned from him and begin to shrug back into the loose shift Caroline had made me wear. I did not hear a door opening or closing, however, and after a few moments he spoke again.

"Why, Katherine?"

I struggled to put my good arm though the sleeve and turned to stare at him dispassionately. "Why what?"

He was looking away again, as if ashamed of his earlier behavior and harsh words to me over such a natural act. "This is my true humiliation," he murmured.

I stared at him, bewildered. What was he saying? What could he mean with his strange words?

"Why is it," he continued quietly, "that you desire every man in the temple but the one who loves you?"

I felt tears pricking my eyes again and shook my head. He couldn't be saying what I thought he was…it wasn't right, it wasn't possible. But sure enough, Martin turned his head to face me once more and he reached out his hand again. Instead of grabbing me roughly, however, his fingers stretched out to stroke my cheek. We stood eye to eye, unblinking for several seconds before I shook my head again and stepped out of reach of his hand.

"Martin…" I mumbled. "I must go."

He let me walk away, up the steps and out the doors of the barracks. I reached the parapets of the temple and leaned over the side of one and heaved several times before I settled back and sat on the cold stone, shivering with my newfound knowledge.

It wasn't right. It wasn't possible. I thought I was the only one who felt that way- and when neither of us were allowed to feel it- could afford to feel it- then what did it matter? Why sat it at all? Was it possible Martin did not want to regret anything more in his life? Was it possible that not loving me would be such a regret? No, I told myself again and again. Perhaps after this is all over. At the least, you could be his mistress. Never his wife. They do not crown foreign peasants as queens in this Empire. Besides, we both had a job to focus on- the task of saving said Empire. Given to both of us by the previous emperor himself. I could not betray that vow for nothing…but was the love of Martin nothing? No, I told myself once more. It is _everything_.

Caroline found me a few hours later, still staring out into the cold, swirling winds and led me, shuddering, back into the warmth of the temple's walls. She led me, in fact, to Martin's quarters. Then, with an uncanny smile, she walked back down the hall and left me standing outside his door. There were no hesitations left on my part as I thought what to do next.

I went in, of course. What else was left?


	13. Chapter 13

**I own no part of Oblivion, its plotline, or its NPCs. Everything belongs to Bethesda Softworks and Zenimax, I think.**

* * *

I knew what I wanted to say to him, but when I walked into his room and saw him sitting on the other side of the bed, his back to me, I couldn't form the words. My tongue failed me, for once. I smiled ruefully at the situation and almost lost my nerve, but he heard my footfall and turned his head.

"Have you come to mock me?" he asked. Tears bit at my eyelids and I blinked furiously. How dare he ask me such a thing after the way he humiliated me earlier? I could've killed him if I didn't love him so much- and there it was again. That word.

He must have taken my silence as the anger it was, for he turned about fully then and apologized.

"Katherine, I am so sorry- I should not have said-"

"You should say whatever you like, Martin Septim," I bit off. I couldn't help some of my anger from earlier remaining. _How dare he?_ "After all, you are the emperor. I am yours to command. If you wish, I will have eyes only for you-"

It was his turn to cut me off and he did so with a bitter laugh. "Is that how you want things to be, Katherine? Is it only a game?"

With his words, I found the walls damming up my heart could not hold back my conflicted feelings any longer. I stepped forward and watched as he rose and faced me. I could see on his face that he regretted the things he was saying- he was so cruel, then- but my heart was that of a warrior _and _a woman and was not to be trifled with. I wanted his honest emotion, not his pretension to a title.

"Is that what you think of my motivations, Martin, of my courage and hard work? Of the wounds and illnesses I have brought back with me every time I enter Cloud Ruler? You see what you wish to!" I cried. "You do not see a woman who has lost _everything_- her standing in society, her loves, her _family_. You do not see how everything I do now, I do for the survival of _your _empire, of _your _people…that I suffer and rage and kill all the good things within me day after day so that _you _may sit on a throne someday. You do not see that I am a _commoner_ and you are the emperor! Tell me, Martin, how is that supposed work? If it is a game, I do not think it very fun. Now tell me who is the one playing with hearts!" I ended bitterly, resigned to my fate and my feelings, resigned to rejection. How else could he act, with the truth laid out plain as day? We may love each other, but we could never be- and he must leave me with my bodily pleasures or both our futures be damned.

Instead of nodding, however, or motioning for me to go, he took a few steps towards me until we were standing face to face. Until he could reach up one hand and, like he had so gently earlier, touch my face. It was then I realized I had been crying. I hastily looked down and attempted to wipe my face, but Martin's other hand held mine away and I felt him holding a kerchief up to my face, wiping it for me.

"Stop, please," I begged him. My voice was hoarse and I felt the ache in my wounds returning from all the exertion and emotional exhaustion.

Hesitantly, he lifted my face and looked me in the eyes once more. "I will never stop," he replied softly, "but if it bothers you so, then I will subside, for a while. Do not think this is over, Katherine," he whispered.

And then he landed the softest kiss I'd ever felt upon my lips.

I was lost. I immediately moved my good arm about his neck, pulling him closer, and felt him respond in kind. The kiss was unlike any I'd had before- he didn't move away from my lips and down my neck, which was typical of most of my encounters- he lingered over my lips as though savoring them- savoring _me_. All I felt in that moment was his heartbeat against mine, his lips enticing mine to open, to let him in, to feel his hands sliding over my back…heat pooled in my cheeks as he slipped his tongue between my lips and began exploring my mouth and I could feel a warm flush spreading up my body. I wriggled against him in an attempt to get closer, to move around the awkwardly bandaged arm that lay between us…

And then he pulled away. I opened my eyes, gasping for breath and found him looking at me seriously, watching me with a triumphant gaze upon his face.

I felt tears coming to my eyes again and suddenly felt tricked or used. What was he trying to prove? That I wanted him? That I desired him and cared for him desperately? And then to offer me…what? What had he truly offered me? Nothing, except a kiss and I pulled away from him as well then, ashamed of myself for the second time that day.

"I hate you," I hissed at him, and the expression on his face changed to one of confusion.

"Katherine, what-" he began, but I was already away from him and opening the door of his chambers. His hand caught my bad arm once again and he swore as I winced. "I apologize. I should not have done that-"

"What are you trying to do here, Martin?" I asked him. "What was that kiss supposed to prove? That you are as desirable as-"

He sighed and put on hand on the door, shutting it again. When he tried to make me face him again, I stepped away. I wasn't playing that game anymore. If he wanted me, if he _loved _me, then he had to do it on my terms. I wouldn't let him go on treating me like I was a ceramic doll. I was every bit his equal, even if I was only a peasant and Nord, at that. I may not have Imperial blood- _royal_ blood- flowing through my veins, but I was every bit the leader he was. I was every bit as strong and good and just as important.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it from over there," I told him. He eyed me a moment before taking a step back.

"Katherine, you _know _I desire you. I _care_ for you deeply. You have been my greatest companion through all of this, but as much as I might wish to, you are right- we have our destinies to control right now. And you are still not well-"

"My being well or unwell has nothing to do with it," I murmured. "You saw that easily enough for yourself, earlier. And if you are going to cite our _destinies _as a cause to hold back, then why did you kiss me that way? Why confess to me at all?"

I knew he could see how hurt I was- if my words earlier had not told him that, then the look of sorrow that was growing increasingly more difficult to keep off my face would. He sighed again and gestured at the small table in the bedroom, littered with more books and maps. "You are right. I am sorry. Perhaps we should sit down and discuss some of these things."

"The bed is as good a place to sit as any," I replied coolly, testing him. My eyes flicked up and down him and I felt him looking me over the same way. "And," I added, "if you will not _discuss_ this with me right now due to my injury, then when I am well, I expect you to broker no objections."

The unspoken offer I had made was hanging clearly in the air between us. Whatever confusions he had, whatever doubts I had, I would help us both ignore them once I was well…under the guise of receiving instructions for my next task.

He looked at me silently for what felt like a long time. Only when I reached my good hand up to touch my lips did he finally nod, as though resigning himself to his other fate. With a nod of my own, I left and resolved to consider the visit, while somewhat disappointing and even more confusing, _highly _successful.

Whether we were willing to admit to it or not, we belonged each to the other now. I smiled softly to myself and practically skipped down the stairs and back into the cold.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own no part of TES franchise; all plots and NPCs belong to Bethesda Softworks. **

* * *

Our clandestine meeting never came to be. Three days passed before I was well enough to complete my healing with magicka and by then Martin was once again immersed in his studies. I never found him but in the great hall of Cloud Ruler and whenever I tried to go near his quarters, a guard was posted outside.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Disheartening, to say the most, though I could see in his eyes how sorry he was. It seemed that ever since our meeting in his chamber that night someone was constantly watching one or both of us. I suspected Jauffre of interfering, but I could not truly blame him. The last thing he needed now, as head of the Blades, was to compromise the next emperor and his one chance at salvation for the empire with foolish vows of love. Never mind that both of us were only flesh and blood, with the desires and needs of any normal person.

Then again, neither of us was exactly normal.

I approached him quietly, tentatively. Peering over my shoulder, I could see Baurus sitting with another Blade near the front of the hall. Far enough away that they could not overhear Martin's words to me, but close enough that even a stray touch of the hand would be evident. Martin looked up at me as I approached and gestured tiredly at the seat before him.

"Katherine," he murmured. His eyes also glanced over at our company and he winced. "I am sorry about-"

I shook my head. "Please, don't think of it. It was foolish of me to propose such a thing. And now we are spied upon in friendly territory. Also my fault, I fear."

He smiled ruefully. "The fault is mine. Have you not wondered who informed Jauffre of our…affection?"

I looked at him curiously while flipping idly through the pages of a book. We had to make the meeting appear casual and above board.

"I believe Baragon overheard some of our conversation that day. Indeed, if I had not come across so strongly when I found you two…" his voice trailed off and I looked down at the pages of the tome. A twin flush spread across our cheeks at the same time and some moments passed before Martin spoke again.

"I do not like to send you out again when you have only just revived yourself, but there is another item of great value we require."

I looked up at him, eager for a mission- anything to keep myself busy and from thinking of what might have been. "Tell me, please."

I listened in earnest as he described the Great Welkynd Stone and where it might be found. I was familiar with the glowing blue baubles- I had collected several in my travels across Cyrodiil. Taking the maps and books he offered as aid, I thanked him. He held onto the items longer than necessary and I raised my eyes to his, questioning.

"Martin?"

He smiled grimly. "I promise, when you return I will make this up to you. Jauffre serves me, not the other way round. We will be together, Katherine," he finished in a heated whisper that sent shivers up my spine. I managed to nod and took the papers firmly from his grasp. "Please be safe," he repeated a dozen times as I took my leave and raced from the hall.

I could not bear to be so near him and not give myself away. And the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to go back into the face of danger.

Still, it was gratifying to know that he was beginning to feel the same way about myself. That thought alone would ensure my safe and hasty return to Cloud Ruler.

* * *

I left immediately after meeting with Martin. I packed my bag quickly and ran down the steps of the temple, eager to get to Lore and begin our second journey south and towards Miscarcand. My path in the last two weeks had taken me near the ruined city, but not directly across it. I was a little apprehensive, but after my last escape from death, I assumed the feeling was normal. I'd avoided the burrows on Solstheim, after all, hadn't I? I knew when to stop putting my hand in the fire…except when it came to Martin and saving the lives of millions.

Then I kept coming back for more. _More what? Punishment? _I chided myself. Though Martin and I had expressed our feelings to one another, he had never promised me a life with him and I had never guaranteed my fidelity in anything but the mission. Unless we pushed our relationship forward somehow, we could remain at an impasse for ages, waiting for one person or the other to make a move- defy Jauffre, duty, honor…

As for my injuries, though I did resent Martin whilst they were being inflicted, I had to be honest with myself: I would gladly endure them all over again if it meant his safety, if it meant pleasing him.

I was a fool.

But I would return to him as swiftly as possible anyway and this time neither of us would take no for an answer. He had said as much, hadn't he? He wanted me. He wanted_ me_. I could still feel his lips upon mine and it made my cheeks flush as they had not since I was in my girlhood. Beneath me, Lore grew unsettled and pranced about on the road a bit. It drew my mind back to the present and I shushed him gently, stroking his neck.

"What is it, boy?" I whispered. His ears flattened back across his head and he snorted a few times. So, there was danger ahead. No surprises there. I looked from my horse and back into the woods where I could distantly see the ruined towers of the city rising above the treetops. Dismounting, I drew Lore a little ways into the woods and tied him to a tree once again, as I had just a week ago. Had it truly only been a week since my encounter at Sancre Tor? It seemed like years. I shuddered and Lore dipped his head to my shoulder, nuzzling me. I patted his neck again and smiled. Clearly he felt some anxiety as well.

"I'll be alright, Lore. Just don't move. The last thing I need is for you to be stolen by bandits because you don't know how to stay put." He whuffed some and I drew a carrot from my pocket, letting him lip at it and then crunch it into his mouth quickly. "Now be good and I will be back soon. I promise," I admonished him again before I left.

The setting sun drew close over the tops of the ruins as I approached, setting the white stones ablaze. I shielded my eyes from the glare and fell into an easy crouch. There were rarely any unusual disturbances around the outsides of such ruins, so I wasn't too concerned about Lore's defensive behavior. I assumed it was just another mountain lion- _maybe _a minotaur. It was the reason I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Moving forward, I casually drew out my sword and looked around, keeping to my crouch. I noticed what looked like the remains of a fire to my right and up ahead, what looked like some kind of makeshift tent. Was it bandits? Was that what had spooked my horse?

Without warning, a sickly green figure ran out from behind some stones to my left and I barely managed to put my sword up in time. I thrust forward with my shield and immediately began a counter attack. Within seconds, it was over and I lowered my shield to take a good look at what had ambushed me.

Bandits? I scoffed at myself. No, it was worse.

Goblins.

Out of all the creatures I have battled, even my ire for the undead do not compare to my hatred for goblins. They are foul, loathsome, and they never die when they should. No, they leap back and forth, taking hit after excruciating hit before they ever breathe their last. I despise goblins. At least the undead have the decency to die when you cut off their limbs. Goblins just keep biting and snarling.

I quickly gathered my thoughts and turned back to the ruins. So. I had unwittingly disturbed a camp of the beasts. Not easily dealt with, but I could manage. I moved forward towards the entrance to Miscarcand and soon encountered four more, each as disgusting as the last. The third especially had trouble going down, but he met his end as I sliced into his skull. My sword pulled free of his shattered bones with a sucking noise and I grimaced at his corpse just before I swung at the last creature, who'd bounded out of the woods a moment before.

When they were all dead and finished their twitching, I looted their corpses and continued on to the entrance. I paused at the top of the steps, looking around for any other nasty surprises I may have missed. Not seeing any, I shrugged and made my way down to the stone door and went inside, keeping my shield and sword at the ready this time.

* * *

Although it was one of the largest ancient Ayelid cities, it did not appear too daunting to myself. Aside from the fact that it was larger and I hated plundering dungeons and ruins.

Nords generally prefer to be above ground, except in death. The few caves which I'd seen some of my brethren call home were shallow and close to the surface and typically surrounded by trees and other greenery. Yes, we liked to be close to the earth, but we _loved _the sky.

I started hearing sounds almost as soon I was inside and kept to my crouch as I moved amidst the shadows, peering through the dim light. I could see in a well below me that there were more of the goblins inside the place and from the sound of it, they were angry and fighting. Some familiar cries reached my ears and I knew then that Martin had not been joking about the other creatures who now inhabited the place. He'd told me that the last king of the city still reigned over its ruins with his minions, keeping out intruders and terrorizing travelers. History assumed it was because the spirit of the king hoped his people would rise again someday and have need of the Great Welkynd Stone. I figured he was just a nasty, selfish bugger who didn't want to die. Well, he'd die when he met me. I shied away no longer from sending the undeparted to their final rest.

I decided to let the goblins and the lichs tear one another to pieces before I ventured further. So, I paused in a shadow and rifled through my knapsack as quietly as possible. I was wearing the best armor I owned, which was not saying much, but I wanted to be very certain that I returned to Martin in one piece, this time. I pulled out an enchanted cloak which would help supplement my health and magicka as needed and hastily slipped it on over my armor. I'd had it enchanted in Cheydinhal when I was there a few weeks back, searching out the Mythic Dawn base nearby. It was finicky and didn't always do what it was supposed to; but I'd run out of my last coin having it enchanted and so I fully intended to get some use out of it.

After I'd tied the belt and lifted the hood over my head, I sheathed my sword and began counting the arrows that hung at my back. Ayelid ruins were the perfect place to utilize my marksman skills, though they were few. I slung my bow off my shoulder and replaced it with my shield and then I was ready for action. Sneaking back up to the side of the ledge, I could see the goblins had finished off the lichs and were now arguing about something else. Hefting the bow in my hands, I notched an arrow and drew the string back slowly, taking aim at a spot just above one of the goblin's heads. When shooting downwards, it was easy to fall short of the mark and I wasn't about to start wasting my arrows.

I let the arrow fly forward, through the cracks of the railing and a split second later the goblin squawked and fell dead. My arrows always had more power behind them when I had time to aim properly, as I did then. Crouching further, I waited for them to stop running about in confusion before I notched another arrow and took down another goblin.

The best way to kill a goblin was to take it by surprise from a distance. Close combat was when one began to make mistakes- it grew harder to hit them properly and prepare for full-bodied attacks. If I could manage to take them unawares, I always took to the nearest tree to pick them off.

Yech. Goblins.

I shivered a little and then started creeping around the pit, keeping them confused and easier to kill. When I'd successfully shot the last one, I ventured further along the corridor. It was best to keep moving once inside the ruins. There was no time for looting bodies in such a dangerous setting.

I hurried along through the next passage once I'd depressed the stone in the wall. Another problem with the ruins was how confusing they could be. Occasionally I'd end up doubling back on my own path simply because I couldn't remember which stone to push or if I had pushed one in the first place. Doors didn't always open where one expected and sometimes there was no door at all. It could be frightening if it was unexpected. This time, however, I was prepared and made it into the next level of the ruins with no trouble. I kept an arrow notched in my bow and held it out before me, ready to fire, in an effort to take the creatures by surprise again. They all died before they got near me, so my focus must have been near perfect, for once. I chalked it up to my desire to be back at Cloud Ruler as soon as possible.

Well…Martin, really. But he was at Cloud Ruler, so it amounted to the same thing. Something rustled behind me and I whipped about and let fly a few of my enchanted arrows. A zombie fell to the ground and I stepped back, disturbed. Clearly, my focus was a little farther from perfect than I thought. Oh well.

I met several more goblins, zombies and lichs before I managed to crawl, wriggle, and leap my way through the corridors, gates, and traps that stood between me and the inner sanctum: Morimath. It was here I would find the Great Stone and its mythic protector, the last great king of the damned place itself. I stilled my muscles as the threatened to tremble from excitement. I encountered a few beasts as I made my way up the stairs and towards the lengthy pier, the end of which held the treasure I was after.

I could see its glow lighting up the entire pier and most of the ceiling; it was a large stone, indeed. Martin had told the truth of it attraction. I was surprised it was still here, at all, but thought back to what Martin had warned me of: the last king of Miscarcand still guarded it. I glanced about myself uneasily for a moment as I approached the pedestal. I didn't see any more creatures right away, but that didn't mean anything. As I well knew, lichs were especially skilled at hiding themselves from plain sight.

I shivered lightly and paused to take a deep breath before I shouldered my bow and reached up to take the stone. My hands touched its gleaming surface. I waited a moment to see if I had triggered anything. When nothing happened, I let my breath out, smiled a little, and pulled the stone from its place.

My second and greatest mistake of the day. The first had been losing my focus. This one would cost me more than precious minutes of the day.

No sooner had I tucked the stone into my bag, than I felt the icy presence of a lich behind me. Its stench filled my nostrils and I heard, rather than saw, the staircases that rose from the pit of Morimath to meet the pier upon which I was standing. A clatter came from all sides as zombie guardians ran up the gauntlets to attack me.

"Kill her!" screeched the last king of Miscarcand.

Only then was I spurred to action. It was too late to use my bow and I deftly drew my sword from its sheath, thankful I had packed it. I caught the first zombie that charged at me with a broad blow across its ribs and it tumbled to the ground in a heap.

I found myself saying a prayer to the Nine for its swift demise just as a second guardian came at me. Swinging my blade high, I blocked the thing and pushed against it brutally with my shield, sending it off balance long enough to detach its sword arm from its body. It went down soon after, but the short battle left the third and final warrior hacking away at my unprotected back.

I could feel a rusty blade pierce my cloak and tear it away. I was so enraged at the waste of my well earned and foolishly spent gold that I completely ignored the burning sensation that was searing its way down my back and whirled about to confront the beast. It grinned nakedly at me and lunged at me again, but I was ready for it this time and slashed it to pieces before it could lift its sword in riposte.

Nearby, I could hear the enraged howls of the long dead king and the sensations coming from my back finally broke through to me. I had been wounded. How badly? I couldn't tell and there was no time to check before the king was also coming for me, his staff raised high and his face full of murder.

Perhaps it was my thoughtless prayer, but I had only begun to lift my sword again when the king was upon me…and impaled himself upon my raised weapon. He seemed to stare at me in horror as the life drained from him, his arms still bring his staff down about my shoulders weakly. I knew the shock at my good luck must have shown upon my face, for he snarled at me and I was suddenly brought back to reality. I drew my sword from his gut- as much as he had one- and slashed at him a few more times, for good measure.

_The last king of Miscarcand. Huh,_ I sniffed with some disdain. _Bloody bastard. _But even as I was thinking the words, I felt a small amount of sadness descend upon me. With the loss of Miscarcand's Great Stone, the era of the Ayelid elves had truly ended. The age of mystery and reason was gone and only the empire of greed and thievery remained.

I hoped that the king's spirit would rest for good now. It could not have been easy, living all those years only to protect something you knew was already gone, only to see the things you loved best dying a cruel, cruel death.

I surprised myself by saying another spontaneous prayer. Then I began to step over the bodies and make my way back down the pier. As I lifted my feet, I felt the burning in my back begin again. I finally, warily, lifted a hand to my back to feel the damage. My hand met blood and the jagged edges of pierced armor. I cringed and probed the wounds. Fortunately, they weren't so deep, but I knew that even these shallow wounds would take their toll on me. After everything I'd been through recently, my body was not responding the way it had when I'd first begun.

I stumbled a bit and leaned against a nearby pillar while I cast a healing spell. After another feel that told me the healing was good enough, I made my way from the ruins and hoped I never had to see another wrecked Ayelid city again. I was so intent on making my way from the space that the dull ache coming from my back did not register as a separate injury. Nor did I notice the blood seeping from between my legs and staining the ties of my greaves.

This was unfortuante for myself, as it was what attracted the horde of zombie guardians in the hidden exit to me.

Normally, I am glad to bleed, as it is what assures me I will not be a mother this season. This time, it nearly spelled my death. I did not miss the irony of the situation.

* * *

**AN: Cliffhanger? Nah, we all know she'll make it out okay. Oops, I hope I didn't just ruin it for you. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I own no part of TES franchise or Oblivion; all NPCs and plots belong to Bethesda Softworks.**

* * *

The zombie guardians were on me before I even realized that I'd stumbled into a backdoor out of Miscarcand. I felt them tearing at the remains of my cloak before I saw them and barely managed to lift my sword before me in time to deflect their remaining blows.

Still, there were too many of them and I was too ill prepared. My knees gave out as they tackled me, bringing me to the ground. Their stench was thick in my nostrils and I felt one of them ripping my armor from my body in an attempt to get at my tender, still bleeding flesh. I scrabbled about me for purchase, felt a head and pressed down upon it hard, levering myself to my feet once more. With a roar that sounded more like a desperate gurgle, I threw my shoulders back, tossing a more persistent guardian to the ground behind me. With one arm finally free, I slashed and hacked at the zombies in front of me, killing them where they stood. But even as they fell dead I could feel the others closing in around me. I tossed my head about, searching for a way out, but I knew the only way to find escape was to finish off the monsters.

The wound at my back began to sting once more and I felt my movements growing sluggish- the zombies must have opened my skin with their teeth already, infecting my blood with their disease. Panic began to bubble in my gut, clouding my head further. If I caught sick at this point, without further defense, still weakened by my previous illness, far underground…I suddenly wished I knew more magic. If only I had taken the time to learn Mark and Recall. If only I could send a message to Lore, or Martin. But I had none of those things, save my rapidly fading wits and strength and the sharpness of my blade.

More prayers rose to my lips and I found myself murmuring them aloud as I turned and struggled with the creatures again. We were deep in a tunnel of the ruins now and it was dank and hard to see. They had chased me down until I was cornered, with no visible means of escape. I knew if I was to leave here alive, as I had at Sancre Tor, I would need the help of the old gods of Skyrim and the Nine combined. The blank stares of the monsters met my fearful eyes with no glee, though their mouths were open in horrific grins. I trembled in my boots, but raised my blade before me, pulling both arms free to better wield it. Somehow, whether it was my ever growing need to see Martin again, or the desire to save an empire and redeem my life, the zombies fell dead, one by one, stripped of their power and whatever limbs were left them.

Still trembling, I whirled about myself, blade out, not believing they were truly gone. I heard a whisper of a breeze behind me and whipped around only to find myself slashing at thin air. My eyes were fuzzy and it was getting hard to see; whether it was for the poison in my veins or the blood running down my forehead, I did not know.

"Martin!' I hissed in anguish, unable to still the panic in my breast that beat at my heart incessantly. "Martin, where is the way out? I cannot find it!"

The same breeze teased my cheek again and I suddenly realized what it meant. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on it, on the feeling. If I could only find where it was coming from…and there it was again, whispering across my face. I breathed Martin's name again, more softly, and opened my eyes in the dim crawlspace I had stumbled upon.

Towards the end of it a slice of glimmering light filtered through the grimy, dark stones and I staggered towards it, fumbling at my belt for a torch. I clawed at the space for several seconds before I realized it was another leveraged opening; another trick of the Ayelids. I glanced about quickly, searching for the proper stone and fell upon it with all my strength. When I finally heard the sound of stones sliding apart, I stumbled back to the opening and fell through, directly onto the stone steps that led up and out of the ruins. Nearly crying with relief, I climbed up the stairs, leaning heavily on the nearby walls and stacks of tumbled stones that lined the rise.

When I'd finally reached the daylight once again, sheltering my aching eyes against the glare of a late afternoon sun, I sat down hard on the top step to rest a moment. My eyes closed and leaned my head back, feeling gently at the wounds, knowing that I needed to get to Lore; that I needed a Cure Disease potion quickly…but I felt so tired…

* * *

The sun had set by the time I opened my eyes again, although streaks of red and orange still glazed the darkening sky. Nearby sounds of goblins snuffling about the ruins below me brought me wide awake, despite my diminished senses. I realized that I hadn't healed myself from my last battle and quickly cast a healing spell, followed by invisibility. The imperative to get to Lore as quickly as possible had just doubled. There was no telling how far gone my body was from the encroaching illness, apart from the aching I felt all over. I rubbed my brow gently and winced as blood flaked off my skin. My vision blurred again and I covered my eyes briefly, trying to remember what had happened.

_Shit_. I'd begun my monthly blood. That was what had drawn the zombies to me down in the ruins and if I didn't crawl to Lore quickly enough, it was also likely to draw the goblins now. I continued to swear at myself as I made my way down from the ruins and back towards the woods where I'd left my steed. My meager healing had done enough good that I was able to reach Lore without too much trouble and we were far away from the goblins by the time my invisibility wore off. I wasn't riding Lore just yet, for fear that the noise of my attempting to mount him would draw too much attention. Instead, I hobbled alongside him for a few miles before we stopped. I drew him off the rode long enough to down the appropriate potions, which made it easier for me to mount him quietly. He seemed as nervous as he'd been before I'd entered the ruins and I did my best to calm him, to no avail. He was skittish the rest of the road to Cloud Ruler. Perhaps it was my blood, I wasn't sure. Perhaps the zombies had given me a disease my potions couldn't cure. I groaned and rolled my eyes at the thought, sending another dull ache through my skull.

All I needed now, on the eve of my reunion with Martin- I hoped, this time, for good- was an incurable disease. I daren't put him in the kind of danger he put me in; after all, he was the empire's last hope for survival. I could close all the Oblivion gates I cared to, but it wouldn't keep Mehrunes Dagon from Cyrodiil's door for long unless Martin could light the Dragonfires.

So it was with yet another heavy countenance that I found myself riding back into Cloud Ruler for the third time in as many weeks.

* * *

Lore's hooves clattered onto the stones just inside the large doors of the fort and I slid off of him to close the doors behind us. Normally I would leave him outside, but the danger in the open country was growing with every day the fires remained dark and unlit. I had no desire to lose my only friend in all my troubles and I was sure Lore would appreciate the temporary shelter the cold, but sturdy stones could offer him for the night. He nickered as my weight left his back and tossed his head back to nuzzle my shoulder. I gasped and staggered against him as pain shot down my back once more.

"No, Lore, I know you're worried for me, but you can't shove me that way," I muttered as I drew away from him. "Now wait here a moment. There's some straw for you in the corner. I have to see Martin," I grunted as I pulled the doors closed and then started up the steps.

I could hear Lore neighing softly as I left him and I gave my head a small shake. It seemed he needed me as much as I needed him. I wondered if I would ever find that kind of loyalty with a man. I managed to hobble up the last steps and onto the upper terrace of the temple, right into Jauffre's upright figure. The older man glanced down at me, frowning as he righted me again. I would have frowned back at him if I'd cared at that point. Instead, I was clutching the bag at my shoulder and desperate for rest and healing.

"You've returned already? What on earth- you are injured again! Well, there's no helping it. Martin needs to speak with you as soon as you are able. You will not like what he has to say, I am afraid. Still, you'd better see to your injuries, first. Caroline!"

He kept a hand on my arm, steadying me, as he called Caroline and another over to help me. I protested feebly against their ministrations and dragged my feet as they led me further from the great hall and over towards the barracks.

"But Martin," I found my self murmuring as I struggled against their stronger grips.

My words meant nothing to them without my health behind them, backing me up. I knew Martin would rather not see me if I was injured, as well, so I finally stopped talking and let them lead me away. Still, even as I was sitting before my nurses, keeping still for their efforts to stop up my wounds and pour potion after potion down my throat, a nervous energy was racing through my blood. I was worried about Martin's reaction to my return, eager to get the Great Stone in his hands, and concerned about his news. What had Jauffre meant, I wouldn't like what he had to say? What was the latest task he had prepared for me? Would it require us to be apart even longer? Would it put him in danger? I no longer cared for the danger I was put in, day after day, but I drew the line when it came to him. For all I knew, Martin had only been a priest his whole life, whether it was for evil gods or the Nine. The man inspired many things in me, but confidence in his ability to defend himself was not one of them.

Caroline, as she usually did, seemed most concerned. "What have you been battling this time?" she asked. "Zombies?"

I only nodded, my lips glued to yet another bottle of potion. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, bending to wrap my back again. "Well you won't be fighting anything for at least another week. You need more rest and besides that, we daren't follow the emperor's plan with you bleeding this way."

I froze and lowered the bottle. "What plan?"

She shook her head again. "Nay, I won't say another word. There. All bandaged up. Now get some rest and you can speak to him soon enough tomorrow."

I remained quiet as she helped me to a bed roll and watched her leave again. Only when she was gone did I lower my head to the pillow and close my eyes. I knew I wouldn't sleep much, but I also knew she was right and that I did need sleep. Besides, there was no point in going to see Martin now. He'd never touch me while I was still injured and I'd never let him touch me while I was on my blood. I smiled to myself as I drifted off. It seemed we'd always be denied by something: first, our own cowardice, second, our comrades, and finally by my own body.

Life was determined to be cruel to us. I wondered what would keep us from one another next and decided I was better off not knowing. Sleep claimed me and I rested.

* * *

**AN: More Martin action next chapter. Yay!**


	16. Chapter 16 Warning Lemon or lime?

**I own no part of the Oblivion or TES franchise. All plots and NPCs belong to Bethesda Softworks and I make no profit from this fiction.**

* * *

Though I'd intended only to sleep for a few hours, I stayed in bed for two days. Caroline seemed to think nothing of it, but I'd occasionally hear Jauffre's voice through my mild fever induced haze, demanding to know when I would be up; and had I talked to Martin yet? It was grating, to say the least, but I'd grown use to his incessant demands. I knew he appreciated my efforts, even if he thought little of my methods. I also knew that he was as tired and stressed as the rest of us were. We were holding the empire together on a bootstrap and the effort had us all brooding and exhausted.

I never heard Martin's voice, but when I finally roused myself from my spot on the floor, I noticed a note next to my pillow. It was broad daylight outside, for light was streaming through a crack in the caulking and the floor boards above my head creaked with movement of the other soldiers. I ran a weary and still weakened hand through my hair and drew the blankets aside to take stock of myself before I turned to look at the piece of paper. My leg was looking as good as it had before Sancre Tor, despite the scar that now ran in a jagged line down one thigh, and my back, though still sore, was fully healed. Any fever I still felt was the result of my monthly blood, as the poison that had run through my veins upon my return to Cloud Ruler was destroyed by the potions Caroline had forced down my throat.

To be honest, I was surprised that I was bleeding at all. It was not unusual for my blood to cease during times of great stress- I was often irregular during my girlhood and especially during my training on Solstheim. But what was even more surprising was what the note said when I read it. It was from Martin, as I suspected, but it contained a blatant invitation to his quarters. I thought I knew what he wanted, but there was no way we could be together with me in my state and some horror hanging over his head. And whatever this next task was, he surely felt it- all of them did. Everyone that I'd come in contact with since I'd returned from Miscarcand avoided me. If they actually spoke to me, it was in a hushed, hurried tone of voice. Expressions of fear crossed all their faces and they spoke in whispers, clumped together- as if they huddled for protection against the cold…or something else. Something worse.

Of course I went to him. I waited another day, hoping my bleeding was close to stopping, and to regain my strength. Perhaps it was fortunate- perhaps unfortunate, I will never be able to decide which- that it did cease. I was able to remove the rag I'd been using and toss it on the fire before dressing for the day. I washed as best I could and did the laces on one of my dresses before putting it on. It made the gown sit loose on my shoulders, but there was no help for it. Without Caroline helping me into my clothes, I couldn't tie them properly. And with the still healing wound on my back, I could not stretch my arms around to do them up. So, looking rather bedraggled and scandalous, and carrying the heavy Welkynd Stone in a pouch at my side, I finally left my sick bed for the real world.

Arcturus saw me leaving the barracks and was one of the few to brave speaking to me.

"Katherine- I am glad you are back and rested. Are you well yet?"

I managed a tight smile at him. "Nearly, thank you. How fares the emperor?"

"He is very troubled, Katherine. He needs good counsel and none of us can give it to him." He gave me a long look and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. Was he suggesting…?

"Surely amongst the lot of you there is someone with enough experience and wisdom to advise him. Jauffre is a good man," I offered.

Arcturus shook his head and stepped closer. "Go to him, Katherine. Jauffre is not in his quarters right now and the guard is just changing."

"I was on my way," I murmured. "But why-"

"He is not the same man when you are gone," he said shortly, suddenly unwilling to meet my eyes. "None of us can deny it- not even Jauffre. _Go to him_." His voice was low and gruff and I noticed, for the first time, the way he looked at me. The way they all looked at me. It was mix of awe, lust and respect. And the unfair aspect was that I was below them in class, yet only heeded the desires of the emperor: an unlikely and doomed combination.

I wondered that they didn't all hate me for ignoring them, despite the brave and handsome soldiers they were. They deserved at least my notice and here I had been, day after day for weeks, ignoring them but for the brief comfort and support they could offer; seeking only Martin every time I entered the gates of the fortress of the most sacred order of which _I _was now a member.

Impulsively I reached one hand out and squeezed Arcturus' hand. "Thank you. I- I am sorry."

"For what?" he asked, voice still low, hiding his embarrassment.

"For never seeing you," I replied simply. I gave his hand one more squeeze and then hurried past him to the upper level, to the private rooms. I could feel his eyes on my back the entire way.

* * *

He had been right; there was no one in the short hallway outside Martin's door. I looked behind me once before moving forward quickly and pushing it open. When I stepped inside, Martin immediately turned away from the small table he was standing at to face me.

The look upon his features was strange- full of love and guilt- and I closed the door behind me, making sure it was latched.

"Katherine," he began, "how are you? Jauffre said that your time in Miscarcand did you no good-"

"I am fine," I lied, lifting the bag at my side and holding it out. "Where shall I put this?"

His eyes scrutinized me as he stepped forward and took the Stone. "You look pale."

"I lost some blood- but I am well rested now." It was not entirely a lie. I had bled because of my gender, after all- he needn't know about my wounds.

"But Jauffre…"

"He talks too much," I snapped. "You and I both know that. Now, what's this about another mission?"

That strange look left his face and was replaced by desire and tenderness. "We will not speak on it, yet. I made a promise to you when you left for Miscarcand. I intend to make good on it." He smiled at me and I felt my breath leave my chest. He hadn't forgotten. He'd remembered every word and he still wanted me, after having days to think it over, to change his mind. I felt a desire fierce enough to match his rise into my cheeks…but with it came a not unfamiliar feeling, especially when I was in his presence. I was suddenly nervous.

Martin drew nearer to me and I stumbled backwards until my back hit the wall behind me. I let out a small moan of pain and bit my lip. Worry crossed Martin's face and he moved across the room more quickly, gathering me to him.

"What is it?"

I shook my head. I was in his arms now- a place I had feared I would never be again. There was no way I would tell him how badly my wound still ached, despite its being closed. He would send me away, surely, and then when would I see him again? Three days? Four? After this next horrible task- one neither of us might live through, by all accounts? No, I kept my mouth shut and pressed against him. _He started it this time,_ I told myself firmly. _Don't be nervous- he loves you_.

He groaned and tried to ease away, but I held him to me- I might not be able to lift my arms well, but there was nothing wrong with their muscles.

"Katherine, I cannot take much more of this," he murmured against my ear. "I cannot hold back what I feel…for you…" I shivered as his breath caressed my neck and I turned my face, kissing his cheek, pressing my lips against his stubble.

"Then don't hold back. You said you wanted to make good- do it, then!" I said hotly.

His grip tightened and I fought back another moan of pain, squirming against him as his hands drew my gown further down my shoulders. He pushed me back against the wall again and leaned into me, splaying his hands across the tops of my revealed breasts. His hands hovered there for another second and I tried to remain still, my body tense- yearning for his touch, but afraid to break the spell. I lifted my eyes to his and could see him resisting it, trying to treat me with respect and dignity, instead of throwing me onto the bed behind him and ravishing me as I longed for him to do. As he wished he could.

"Oh, Katherine- how I longed for your return!" He whispered fiercely into my ear. I shivered again and heaved a breath, raising my chest right into his palms- and then he lost his control.

He smashed his lips into mine and I happily opened my mouth wide against his. It was a different sort of battle, this one of wills and passion. It made me forget, momentarily my aches and pains- my yet healed wounds. And if I did moan, it was hard to tell what had caused the sound. Was it the way he was running his hands down my arms, drawing the fabric of my gown along with them? Was it the way he buried his face in my neck to lick and tease my tender skin?

Once he had my gown off my arms he released the clothing and it fell off my hips and pooled about my feet. I did not feel shy- I was never shy about sex- but I was nervous again. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Was I pleasing? Was I as good as he could have in an imperial woman?

I forced myself to meet his eyes as I felt his arms go about me again. With a tentative smile, I held him away and began to lift his own robes. He was too close to me- unless I got him into the bed quickly, he would be sure to notice my injury.

"That's not fair, Martin," I breathed, brushing my lips against his neck. "Now I'm cold…"

He groaned and helped me lift his robes over his head before he picked me up by my waist and walked us back to the bed. "Then we must warm you up, my love," he whispered before burying his face at my neck. His arms were strong about me - stronger than I'd imagined- and his skin was hot with desire. I shivered and felt him pull me closer. His warm tongue snaked out against my skin- my neck, my shoulders, my breasts.

I whimpered and drew his head down to my bosom and he eagerly laved his tongue across them before taking one of my hardened nipples into his mouth. He caressed it with his tongue and I threw my head back, heedless of my injury, ignoring the pain running up my back. The only indication of my discomfort was the way my fingers dug into his hair. He moaned and lifted his head to look at me. We were lying across the bed diagonally, him covering my body with his, my legs spread and hooked around his hips.

He was silent and did not move for several seconds and I took the moment to savor him- to memorize his face and the way he looked, just then. He was built well for a simple monk- if he had ever been just that- and his skin was darkened from years of hard toil. He had his father's features, his father's eyes, but there the resemblance ended. He was strong and muscled- healthy and full of life. His cheeks were flushed pink with arousal and I could feel him at my entrance.

I smiled again and tugged on his hair. He grinned and dipped his head down for another taste of my breasts. Back went my head once more. While he teased me with his mouth I felt his fingers finding their way to my womanhood and gasped. Was this truly Martin? My Martin? Gone was the reticent, sorrowful man who'd done nothing but read books day in and day out. The man who'd put off my advances and once turned away from my naked form. In his place was a _god_…and a god who wanted me. I felt sure that after that night, I would never see the old Martin again. He would exit his bed chamber the emperor we knew him to be.

He snaked a hand beneath my lower back, driving me from my thoughts. With one arm curled under me, he moved me up further onto the bed and knelt over me. I could feel myself responding to him, to his ministrations and his body, more readily than I had with any other man, if the moisture between my legs was any indication. I pouted and tried to draw him down to me again, eager to kiss him, but he resisted.

"Shh, Katherine- wait- I do not desire this to end so soon. You are my queen," he said softly, heatedly.

I stilled and stared up at him before letting my eyes flutter shut. My life was turning into a bloody fairytale. I hated fairytales…but I loved Martin. So I let him tell me whatever he wanted to. He didn't have to know that my reality was a nightmare of demons and monsters. I was sure he knew that already, anyway. Let him believe in the moment we were creating. Let him think that I would sit beside him someday, once all this was over. We loved each other and that was all I could let matter to either of us.

Instead of entering me after such a declaration, as I expected, he ran his hand down my womanhood again. With a hiss of pleasure, I let my legs fall apart, relaxing into his touch. He slipped a finger between my folds and stroked me, running the tip of his finger over my most sensitive place before dipping it into me and stroking me from the inside. I gasped beneath his touch and felt my hips begin their gentle rolling. He smiled down at me and removed his hand slowly, rubbing his thumb over my swollen nub once more before replacing his fingers with his hardened member. Without another word he thrust into me, hard, and I hissed with pleasure.

"Martin," I gasped out as he lowered his lips to mine once again. I felt his hard length filling me to the hilt and I mewled as he began to move slowly over me. My fingers dug through his hair and moaned into my mouth as I tugged on his long strands, pushing his head further down, forcing his tongue deeper into my mouth. His movements quickened and he drove into me harder than before, his member striking my inner, velvety flesh with an intensity that made me cry out. He groaned and tore his lips from mine, burying his head in my neck and suckling hard on my skin. Marking me. The thought made me smile even as I gasped for air, the weight of his body forcing air from my lungs in a fast rhythm. The heat of our actions crawled over my skin, leaving me to guess whether or not the sweat beading on my arms and dripping its way between our clashing bodies was fever induced. I mewled again and forced my hips up to meet his as he furrowed deep into my body. I could feel the harsh line of his flesh and the sticky feel of his seed spilling into me and I knew that neither of us would last long. He reached one hand down and hooked my legs further about his hips, keeping me spread beneath him and him driving into me without restraint. My muscles clenched about him over and over and I felt his shoulders tense beneath my hands. Our friction was rubbing my maidenhood deliciously, keeping my skin pink and angry and I could feel my already swollen flesh screaming for release. Martin was filling me up, utterly, and his strokes were causing a desperate pressure to build within me. The lazy warmth I had felt upon his first kisses had spiraled out of control and I knew he longed to take me completely and find his own release. I welcomed it- I wanted it.

"Martin," I whispered, begging him for the unnamable. He pulled his head back and looked into my face, his blue eyes burning into mine as he moved over me- moved with me.

"Katherine," he rasped out in return, before bestowing a heavenly smile upon me and capturing my lips beneath his again. His tongue dipped into my mouth, mimicking the thrust of his hips and I felt the threads on the outside of my vision begin to unravel as the pleasure blossomed outward within us. My walls clenched about his member as I peaked, my mouth torn from his as I tossed my head back and tightened my legs about him. He continued to thrust hard into me even as my pleasure spread and took me over, even as my legs shook from their perch about his hips, even as my fingers clawed into his shoulders. I moaned his name over and over until I was barely breathing its syllables; and only then did I feel his arms tighten about me and his mouth find purchase at my neck again as his own release overtook him. I held onto him tightly as he buried himself deep and his seed exploded into me. My name was on his lips and our heady scents filled the air. I trembled in his arms uncontrollably as I felt him filling me up and avoided looking at him- at his face. I had just given myself completely to a man for the first time in my life, but old habits die hard.

* * *

Neither of us relaxed for several seconds. There was no sound in the room besides the crackle of the fire place and the wind moaning about the eaves outside. It echoed the low, sensual sounds we had made moments before and even as we gradually released our hold on one another, I felt our bodies shaking from our efforts. Martin slid from on top of me slowly, as if he was worried about hurting me and then gathered me to his side. I felt the sheets beneath me pulling away from my aching back wound painfully and the hurt that had been so easily ignored minutes before washed over me again in full force. I winced and my breath hissed from my lips. Martin was immediately awake and out of his pleasure induced haze. He looked down into my face and I smiled apologetically.

"Have I hurt you, Katherine?" he asked, all concern and sweetness. I shook my head and kissed him again.

"No, it is nothing-"

Matin eyed me and felt a hand along my back. His eyes widened as he felt the edges of my wound and I moaned in pain this time. With an angry look, he rolled me onto my side gently and I heard a sharp intake of breath followed by an, "Oh, Katherine." All anger disappeared from his voice. I didn't reply and he stared at my back for what seemed like forever. He ran his fingers lightly on the outside of the pink and puckered scar tissue and I shuddered beneath his touch, drawing the bed cover closer about my exposed shoulder and breasts.

"Is it cold in here?" I murmured.

His hand stilled and he then he trailed it up my back, away from the wound and up into my hair, brushing it from my face. I could feel him propping himself up and leaning over me.

"I can put more wood on the fire, if you prefer," he replied. His hand continued to stroke my cheek.

"Is it bleeding?" I asked, changing the subject. Not because he was being too nice, but because these were his quarters. I hated to think that I had already sullied his person with my common blood- now I had ruined his royal and expensive sheets- maybe his clothing, too. I heard him exhale heavily and he moved his hand to my hair, running his fingers through it. I was glad I had washed it that morning.

"No. It looks aggravated, but it is not bleeding. You didn't open it." He paused and I drew the sheet even closer. "Oh, Katherine," he whispered again. "If you only knew how sorry-"

"Stop saying that!" I hissed. "I knew the dangers! I knew from the moment I was freed! I saw the emperor- your _father_- slaughtered before my very eyes. You can't tell me you are sorry that I am helping you save the empire- save thousands of lives- can you?"

He very carefully drew up against my back and wrapped his arms about me. "You are right, as usual. How can I argue with you after all that you have accomplished? While I have sat in this sanctuary, protected and safe and doing nothing but reading books." He paused again before blurting out, "I hate myself. I would rather die than allow one more harm to befall you."

I ground my teeth and felt the tears filling my eyes. "Martin- never say that- never, ever say that. You are more important to these people than I will ever be."

I shifted and turned so that we faced one another. "What am I? I am only your task master- your assassin. I only make the way straight for you, that is all. You are the one who will lead the empire to security and stability once more. To greatness. There is so much rebuilding to be done-"

"You would not say such things if you knew what was next, my love."

"Then tell me! Is that not why you asked me here? Tell me and I will gladly do it. I would do _anything_ for you, Martin."

His gaze softened and he stole my lips to his again, so gently that it drew my breath from me. He pulled away slowly and looked at me for several moments more before drawing me in to a sweet embrace, curling an arm about my head and bringing it to rest against his chest. I let him hold me quietly for only a second before I spoke again.

"Martin, you must tell me. We cannot put this off forever."

I felt his chest heave as he sighed and tucked his chin over my head. "I know, my love." He tightened his arms about me and I shivered. There was such a tone of finality in his voice. Of resignation. "It is the gates," he continued. "We must allow them to open."

At that I struggled to sit up, but his arms held me fast. "Martin!" I exclaimed. "You cannot be serious!"

"Katherine, if you hold love for me, let me finish."

I fell silent and screwed my eyes shut, as if not seeing him would make his statement unreal.

"The final key to opening Camoran's world is a Great Sigil Stone. And those are only found in the world which the great gate opens into."

"Surely you cannot mean to enter one of these gates yourself!" I whispered fiercely, stunned at his news.

"No, no, my dearest. That is not what I mean. I will have to stand and fight with the other men you have gathered, in order to defend Bruma. That is only fair. But you are free to work your warrior's ways without fear of looking out for me."

"You ask me to leave you alone to battle?"

"Your task is not any easier and I will at least have many men behind me."

I finally broke the prison of his arms and sat up to stare at him in horror. "Martin, I have scaled the planes of Oblivion before. I can promise you, they hold no fear for me that I have not already faced. But to be inside while you are out there, fighting for your life- Martin, I do not think I can bear it!"

His eyes widened as he saw my genuine fear and he quickly sat up as well, shushing me and trying to gather me to him. I resisted and pulled away, scrambling across the bed from him. He reached a hand towards me.

"Katherine, mighty Katherine- how can this be? How is it, after all the horrors I have made you face that the one which causes you to tremble is my going into battle?"

"I know we may not be together after all this is over," I whispered, gathering the bed clothes to my chest, "and I will never sit by your side, no matter how many pretty promises you make, but I cannot stand to lose you, Martin." I met his eyes and blinked back the tears that had formed in my own. "I am sorry," I murmured brokenly. "I must go- I cannot stay any longer."

"Katherine-" he protested softly, still reaching for me. His eyes were filled with sorrow and I turned away from him, gathering my dress from the floor and stepping into it hurriedly. I heard him moving from the bed and I struggled to pull the sleeves over my shoulders. "Katherine," he said again, from just behind me and I turned around to face him, holding the dress over my bosom with one hand. I placed the other on his chest, holding him from me.

"Martin," I responded. "I love you. I would do anything for you. But you must let me think. If- if this is truly the only way, I must prepare myself. I cannot do that at your side."

He placed a hand over mine and leaned his head down to look at me. "Katherine. Lovely, loyal, brave Katherine. Take what time you need. When you are ready, and only when you are ready, go to the Countess and inform her of our plans. I and our men will await you in the temple at Bruma…and my heart will go with you."

I nodded solemnly, unable to meet his eye again, and removed my hand. Then I turned from him and pushed open the door of his quarters. I had just spent the best moments of my life with that man and now I had to decide if he was the man I believed him to be and if I could, in good conscience, assign him the task of defending a city. I knew, even as I walked away, what my choice would be- I had always chosen duty and honor over affairs of the heart. But for the first time in my life, I was uneasy in my decision and I needed to make peace with my heart. The love I held for Martin would not regain the Amulet of Kings, or restore peace to the empire, no matter how I wished it would.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the super long delay- I was really, really busy this semester. And even though I'm finally graduated, real life will be taking over. At least the main quest portion of this dog and pony show is almost over. :) Thanks for your patience and have no fear, despite the long weeks of waiting for an update, I will not abandon this story. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I own no part of TES franchise and make no profit off this fiction; all NPCs and quests belong to Bethesda Softworks. As does Martin's battle speech. That was yanked right off an ES Wiki. :)**

* * *

I rushed through the hallway and down the steps, into the cold, open air of the temple courtyard. My gown was still slipping beneath my shoulders as I clutched it to my heaving chest. All I knew was that I needed space and air and time to think- to be away from the fairytale that was swiftly turning back into a nightmare. All I wanted to do was commit Martin's face to my memory, to stay in bed with him and sleep forever- but duty called my name, and it was Martin asking for the unlikable task at hand.

I could have hated him so easily in that moment. I'd just given my love and loyalty to him and he'd repaid it by asking me to do the unthinkable. I sat down hard on the top step of the courtyard and pulled my dress higher about myself, tugging awkwardly at the laces at my back. Who was I kidding? Martin was only doing what he had to, what was necessary. And he wasn't asking me to do anything more difficult than I already had- except we hadn't admitted our love for one another back then. Still, what had really changed? And if all the wonderful things the bard sang about love were true, then shouldn't our love for one another only make us stronger, not weaker? I sighed and rested my head in my hands. I felt I was going mad, suddenly. The whole world was going mad and the only thing that made sense was how I felt about Martin…and what I knew I must do.

With some effort, I resisted the urge to fall to weeping and instead rose, somewhat unsteadily, to my feet. I turned around and faced the fortress of the Blades, giving it a long, hard look. Martin was still inside, waiting for my decision. Waiting for me to stand by him as I'd sworn to do- as I always would, after this was over, even if he had another woman at his side. I knew then that I would never leave him again, not after this task. I would love him and protect him the rest of my life. I took a deep breath of the cool air about me and straightened my shoulders, ignoring the sting that curled down my healing back. It was time to prove Martin's faith in me. Then I placed one foot in front of the other and headed back inside the temple, back up the stairs I'd just run down so recently, so foolishly.

I met Jauffre on the stairs and he looked down at me sternly, frowning. I frowned back at him and he looked away.

"Have you spoken with Martin?" he asked me softly.

"I am going to do that now," I responded.

"I do not like this plan," he began to say, but I cut him off. I stepped up, leveling our gazes and smiled coldly.

"Neither do I, Jauffre. But then, I haven't exactly liked any of this. We cannot choose our fates, can we? Be strong, man," I finished in a whisper.

An answering smile, thin and tight, spread across his lips. "Well said, Katherine. I will see you again soon. Good luck."

I turned and watched him walk down the steps and out the door before I continued on my way. The guard was back at Martin's door and he nodded to me. The door opened before I could even lift a hand to it, though, and I looked into Martin's eyes. He was dressed again, but his face was naked to my eyes, emotion playing plainly across it.

"Katherine," he whispered brokenly before dragging me to him in an embrace. I looked over at the guard, embarrassed, but the man continued to stare straight ahead, ignoring the scene next to him. I closed my eyes and let myself savor the feel of his arms about me before I gently forced him back into the room and shut the door behind us.

"Martin," I began, "I have decided."

He removed his arms from about me only to catch my face between his hands. "I know, Katherine. I never doubted what you would choose. You are too good for this," he said softly, an apology hanging in his tone.

I shook my head and leaned forward to kiss his lips. "Martin, it is my fate. You are my fate. And I will never leave you." I rested my forehead against his and he smiled, catching my lips to his again.

"You may need to," he breathed.

"Never," I whispered. "Now, when should we leave?" I asked, eager to get to business, to get the horrific task ahead of me over with.

Martin lowered his hands to my shoulders and pulled me against him once more. "Soon. But lay with me once again, Katherine. I…I need to feel you beside me. I need to carry one good thing with me into battle."

I looked up at him and kissed his cheek tenderly, reaching my hands about him and hugging him fiercely. "Of course, Martin. I wish you would take me again. I have longed for you too long. Once could never be enough."

He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled deeply. "It never could," he agreed. "I would have you as many times as I could. Always," he said insistently, urgently. Then his hands were undoing my laces again and I was lifting his robes and we were lost to one another for the second time that day, reassuring each other of our humanity and love as we stared death and terror in the face. The love we made left me trembling in the cradle of his arms and left him speechless. It was what we needed before the battle, before the tasks that lay ahead. Martin clung to me as if he would never hold me again and I felt him opening himself to me, putting his soul into his searing kisses and long thrusts and it tore down every wall I'd built. But instead of closing my eyes to him as I had earlier, and to every other man I'd been with, I watched him and let him see what he was doing to me. How he was ruining me for any other man. How I would always be his, how my life would never be the same. How we had a life together, somewhere else, in another time and place. How I _loved_ him. And it was enough for us, then. It was enough to last.

* * *

Martin and the others were quiet as I escorted them down the mountain to Bruma later that day. Their silence was fine with me, I had no desire to speak to any of them. I was too keyed up inside about the impending battle. That is, impending as long as the countess agreed to the plan. I did now know if she would, although I suspected she would agree once she saw Martin. He meant business and he looked regal as any king in his armor and weaponry. If we hadn't been accompanied I would have leapt on him as soon as I saw him, but getting him out of the armor simply because I couldn't keep my hands to myself would take more time than we had. Not that Martin was making my self-control any easier. He shot me longing glances every few seconds and I had to work to keep my hand from reaching out to his. Jauffre and Baurus noticed our affection, I was certain, but they tastefully said nothing. I was immensely grateful for it- the entire situation was already awkward enough: a female assassin and task master going into a great gate alone, leaving her emperor and charge unprotected, except by two men who had never seen the inside of an Oblivion gate? It was laughable, at best. Still, I was sure the countess would not prove a problem and it was with a weary heart that I left the men in the Chapel of Talos to go meet with her up in the castle.

My hunch proved correct. After only a short debate, she agreed to follow me to the temple and speak directly with Martin. I could see the soldiers from the other cities standing outside their tents, which were pitched along the castle wall, and they all waved and nodded to me as we passed. Their presence gave me some hope and I smiled at them all, genuinely glad to see them and recognizing many of the faces. I made a note in my mind to personally speak to them all after the whole thing was over- as long as they all survived it.

Once I'd seen her safely delivered into the chapel, I took a seat away from the two powerful parties and gazed ahead of myself, towards the alter. Then I bowed my head and began to pray. I'd murmured prayers in my time, of course, to the gods of my kin, but it had always been in the heat of battle. When I was weary and beaten and about to die. I'd never deliberately gone into a chapel to pray to gods I knew nothing of. Still, if it would help us in the coming battle, I would do anything. I would have sacrificed my own sister, which I supposed was ironic, considering she was already gone. But if it would have helped Martin, I would have dragged her back to the living and let her die all over again.

I heard sounds of negotiation cease and glanced up from my hunched position to find Martin beckoning me to him. I rose and went to him swiftly.

"What is it, Martin?" I asked in hushed tones. He smiled grimly at me.

"We march on your say, with the countess's blessing," he replied.

A shiver raced up my spine and I felt my gut clench in anticipation. I was up to me, when these men marched to their deaths. I heaved a sigh and Martin placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Do not take too long to decide, Katherine, but do not make any hasty decisions, either. We will not move until you are ready."

I looked up into his face, my eyes as stony and cold as they had been upon our first meeting. It had to be so, if any of us were to survive the coming encounter.

"I am always ready, Emperor," I murmured, then dropped to one knee before him. "I only ask your blessing before we leave."

His eyes softened with concern, but I could see understanding behind them as well. He knew full well what I was doing and why. He knew I had to do it, had to shut him out in order to face the task ahead. His hand did not leave my shoulder and he murmured a prayer to the Nine over my head. I could hear noises of approval coming from Jauffre and the countess and when it was over, I rose and turned to look her in the eye.

"Let the battle begin," I said steadily and unsheathed my sword. The older woman stepped back, satisfaction at my strength evident upon her face. She turned and preceded us out the doors of the chapel and stood on the steps to address the gathering crowd. There was an electricity in the air and voices all over the city were raised in wonder and fear.

She lifted her hands, smiling reassuringly at her people. "Today, Martin Septim and the Hero of Kvatch will battle a great evil! Let us lend them our strength and gratitude! For Bruma!" she finished and the people lining the streets let out a mighty roar. It was to the music of their cheers and shouts that I followed Martin and the other soldiers out of the city gates and down to the plain where the battle would commence. There was already one gate up by the time we arrived at the snow covered field and I felt a shudder rip through me as I contemplated it. I knew the great gate would be twice as large and I feared what must lay behind such a fearsome doorway. I could hear the other soldiers muttering amongst each other as fear suddenly struck their hearts when another gate suddenly flashed into existence. I turned to Martin, knowing he would bring them hope and calm their minds. He met my eyes from across the plain briefly and nodded once before he began his march before the line of soldiers. I stood aside from them, knowing my task was different, knowing I would not be able to protect Martin the way they could. Still, I clung to his words as well, drawing whatever courage I could find from them.

"_Soldiers of Cyrodiil! The Empire will stand or fall by what we do here today! Will we let the Daedra do to Bruma what they did to Kvatch? Will we let them burn our homes? Will we let them kill our families? No! We make our stand here, today, for the whole of Cyrodiil! We must hold fast until the Hero of Kvatch can destroy their Great Gate, we must kill whatever comes out of that Gate! Soldiers of Cyrodiil, do you stand with me?!_"

I was swept along with every other man standing there at his rousing words and felt their roar of consent and approval become my own as we lifted our weapons and cheered. We would defeat the daedra, we would save Bruma and Martin. I would destroy the Great Gate. There was no chance for failure, not with the brave soldiers we had on our side; not with the years of strength and skill I owned. We would not fail! And just as we felt our hope rising, soaring, the first wave of daedra spilled from the open gates and the battle was upon us.

I saw Martin running into the fray, surrounded not just by soldiers, but by daedra and I felt panic grip my heart. "Martin! No!" I shouted above the din, but no one could hear me. Flames licked out of the gates and monsters continued to pour forth. In anger at my own stupidity for agreeing to the plan, I shoved my sword back in its sheath and pulled my bow from my back. If I could not protect him while inside the Great Gate, I could at least help out now. With precision I crouched low and began to pick off as many daedra as I could see. It suddenly felt as if there were far too many monsters for me to ever destroy and I felt a weariness settling over the battle field. Still, the men continued to fight and Martin, I could see, though tested, was safe. I shot an imp point blank as it raced towards me and watched with bloodlust as it fell back to the ground, dead. Then I refocused on the field. I could see the third gate had opened and it was all I could do not to go running into the other gates, closing them before the Great Gate could be opened. But that was not the plan, and I controlled myself. _Wait for it, Katherine. It will happen soon…wait…_

And then, in a flash of fire and light, the Great Gate was open, centered between the three and as fearsome a sight then as it had been at Kvatch. I felt a tremor tear up my legs and I shook my head. There was no time for hesitation. I could hear the other soldiers turning and yelling at me as I stood, transfixed by the sheer size of it. Martin's voice cleared the roar of the crowd and I turned, searching for him in the mess of men and demons.

"Katherine! _Go!_" he yelled at me, his face alight with something indescribable. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and found I could no longer speak. Instead, I turned away from him and walked past the hordes of daedra, right into the gate.

* * *

**AN: One of my favorite parts is next: the first glimpse of the doomsday machine! I loved that part of the game- it was definitely fear inducing, for me. Then again, I tend to get really into the game, so maybe it's just me. I have to say, I have loved writing the battle scenes more than anything else, just about. I like the characters and romantic development too, but I am all about some chics kicking serious ass and sustaining injuries! **


	18. Chapter 18

**I do not own Oblivion; all quests and characters belong to Bethesda Softworks and I make no profit off this fiction.**

**AN: Wow, umm...it's been a while. I'm really sorry for the delay. Really, really sorry. It's a shame, too, because this is probs one of my favorite fics. I'll try my best to do better, folks. Thanks so much for your patience.**

* * *

A wave of heat rushed up to meet me as I stepped through the Great Gate and I had to shield my eyes to the bright, flickering light until they adjusted to the sweltering conditions. I could hear the roar of fire and lava as it moved across the plain before me and my skin already prickled unbearably beneath my heavy armor. Without a second thought I flipped my hand up to lower my hood and that's when I saw it- the shadow that fell across my vision.

Time slowed as I craned my neck back to see it properly, the behemoth machine that filled my line of sight and put the fear of the Nine in me. Sparks flew about it and as I watched it took one excruciatingly slow, menacing step. It was incredibly large and black as night. Black as the death and destruction it foretold. I quaked where I stood and swallowed hard, once.

This was what awaited Bruma if I did not succeed.

With that thought, I took off. I barely needed to think, now, to know when to jump and when to let fly with my sword or battleaxe. For that I was grateful. Perhaps all I'd been through before had simply been to prepare me for this point, for this task. Of course, I'd been thinking and assuming that about every previous task, but this one…I had limited time and the stakes were much, much higher. If I didn't get to the main tower soon, hundreds of deaths would be on my head. Maybe even thousands. Martin might not survive, and if he died, then our hope died with him. I couldn't let that happen.

Thoughts of him and his safety fueled me more and I was through the first tower's maze and onto the next before the imps realized what had hit them. Every monster I met fell with a roar of anger and pain, but I barely heard them, hardly registered their accusing glares or steely claws, so intent on my task was I.

That was how the daedra slipped past my defenses, slashing one large, scaly claw across my shoulder. I felt the stitches in my back's wound from just days ago give and tear. Pain, bright as the fire that filled my sight, exploded across my shoulders and I cried out. I managed to duck and roll half heartedly, letting the fireball a scamp let fly hit the offending beast. It took him down and I hauled my sword across his neck, slicing him open in vengeance. Let them try and slow me with their flesh wounds and the smell of blood. It would take my head being lifted from my wounded shoulders to stop me now. Without a second glance back I healed myself best I could and unlocked yet another tower.

It seemed to take me ages- hours longer than I actually had- to get to the main concourse, but I must have arrived in a matter of minutes, dragging my shield alongside myself and using it to push and shove my way past the enemies who wouldn't stay down.

I wondered, as I almost casually slit the throat of another dremora, if I'd ever be the same again. My sister, the homes I'd bought in Cyrodiil, all the things I'd tried to do in the midst of this carnage- I'd done it all to retain my humanity, my sanity. But could I truly ever go back to life before now? Even in Skyrim or on Solstheim, I was the warrior, the killer. Born under the Thief and Assassin, my life had always been marked for blood, never for peace or gentility.

And here I was, in love with the last heir of the Empire, crying out in the wilderness to make plain his way. I must have called myself a fool hundreds of times already, for ever agreeing to the crazy old man's scheme. But there had been something captivating about Uriel- everyone had felt it, even those who lived under a different ruler. His time in Oblivion had made him strange and enchanting and his pull had been beyond my ken- but I'd felt it just the same, and had answered, as best I could.

Save the heir, save the Empire. So I had. Or so I thought I would, if I ever got out of the current mess alive. Another dremora fell at my feet and I cried out as his brother stabbed me in the back- literally. I fell forward and glanced about myself for my shield. I'd dropped it a second ago; all I had in my hands was a short dagger, but I rolled about and thrust up and away from myself desperately. I heard the monster's cries and opened my eyes to find his wide, glazed gaze upon me, the breath gone from his body. I took a second to reorient myself and knew it was a second I didn't have. I could feel, from the trembling of the tower I was in, that the doomsday machine was nearing the gate. At any moment Bruma would be under siege and Martin would be lost. I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming in frustration and looked for the door to the final sanctum. How had I even come this far? My back was a bloody mess and all I could feel was pain, all over. Time was short. I had to pull myself together. I managed to stand again and used the wall to lunge myself forward to the door as I took a desperate pull at my potions bottle. The wounds on my back stitched themselves up loosely and I bit back another cry of pain. Mercy. There was no end in sight, but utter destruction.

Taking another pull at my potion, I felt myself grow a little stronger. With a final prayer I stepped through the last door and hefted my sword in front of me. The daedra saw me the second I was through and began making for me immediately. I dodged a few fireballs even as I ran right past one of the beasts and up the long, monstrous ramp to where the Great Sigil Stone rested, powering the terrible gateway.

I was just reaching out for the stone and could almost feel its heat filling my palm when another blow landed across my back, followed by one to my ribs. I swore and spit up some blood. My just healed back was ripped apart again by blow after blow and I felt the tears of anguish spilling from my eyes. More blood left my lips and I was tossed against the rails holding up the terrible station. I saw the face of my attacker and then, just as all was lost, I smiled. The dremora guardian had made a crucial mistake. I could see the stone glowing brightly directly behind him and my heart swelled- perhaps because of the loss of blood, but I prefer to think of it as hope. I had one chance left and only seconds to spare. Mayhap all was not lost after all. The thought barely crossed my mind before the dremora noticed my expression and brought his mace across my front this time, spraying my cheeks and chin with my own blood.

"You haven't won," I choked out, despite my body saying that indeed, he had.

He roared at me and lifted his mace again just as I reached past him and laid my hand on the stone.

"Too late," I whispered as my fingers closed about it this time, completing the circuit. The look on my attacker's face was priceless; and I kept my eyes upon it until the light filled my sight and I knew nothing for a brief, peaceful moment.

* * *

Those seconds of transportation were my real reward for closing the gates. Without them to clear my mind and heart, I would be a bloody mess from start to finish. I would have come out of every gate still swinging my axe or sword, if not for the blessed moment of silence and light and simple existence, outside of every worldly torment or care.

And then reality slammed back into my bones with a force that left me breathless with terror. The second I could draw air again, I screamed. I could hear someone- or several someones- cheering, what seemed like a far distance off. Nearby, there was the leftover glow of fire, shadows moving about me, and hands. There was a great roar in my ears and I wasn't sure what it was until someone tipped a bottle to my lips and made me drink. The roar went away as the cool liquid slipped down my throat and I reached a hand out to grasp the hands that were tending to me.

"Can you stand? Good, that's it. Come with me. Martin is waiting for you."

Hearing Martin's name spurred me on and I dropped my weapon, no longer caring for it- I could get an enchanted sword anywhere, really. With one hand I pushed my hood back from my face, leaving a smear of blood along my skin, but again, I did not care. Martin needed to see me. Martin had lived.

My heart sang with every sip of potion and I realized it was Jauffre beside me, boosting me up, casting his own healing spells upon me. I wondered what Caroline would say. Probably tell me I needed real rest, not stop-gap measures like spells and potions. Fortunately, she wasn't in my immediate vicinity to tell me to rest; and I still had work to do. The Great Stone was still in one hand, my grip upon it viselike. No one who saw me said a word against it, though. The men still on the battle field parted for Jauffre and me, their cheers still filling the air as their fearsome leader addressed them.

I could barely keep my feet moving, but my eyes were open and ahead of me and they saw Martin before my mind caught up. Then he was there, in front of me, his face tired and dirty, but cautiously happy as his eyes took in my shattered state.

"Martin," I croaked before he could say anything, "I have the stone."

I held the thing before me, my arm trembling pathetically. Martin looked at it and for one wild second I feared he wouldn't take it. Then he lifted his own hands and covered mine, lifting the stone away from me.

"You succeeded yet again, my friend," he murmured for Jauffre's benefit. But despite our audience, I felt only us in that minute. A deep understanding passed between our gazes as his eyes asked if I was okay, and mine answered in the affirmative.

"I will be," I whispered.

"Good," he breathed, then addressed me more loudly. "I will see you back at the temple. There the last task will await you, when you are ready."

My eyes did not leave his even as I nodded in deference. Only when he turned to make the long hike back to Cloud Ruler did he break away and even then I could see him glancing over his shoulder. His regard helped stiffen my aching back and that, plus Jauffre's arm about me, allowed me to also make the trek in one piece. I didn't collapse once, though I sorely wanted to, and the second I stepped foot inside the great doors of the temple, Caroline was at my side as I'd anticipated, with advice and admonishments.

To my surprise, Jauffre waved her away and tended to me himself, leading me through the doors and up the steps to the private quarters, where he bound my wounds and fed me even more potions. And when my back had stopped bleeding and my head ached considerably less, he sent me away from him and straight to Martin's door.

I was shaking all over, whether from anxiety or eagerness, I couldn't be sure. I didn't know where my mind lay in all the excitement, or where Martin's heart was. We were both given to our mission now and there could be no distractions…but the moment he answered his door we fell into one another's arms yet again.

"Katherine," he said in my ear and my trembling grew worse. And when he took me inside and made me lie on his bed, I did not stop him, or protest. He made love to me as softly and gently as he could and when my trembling was of quite a different sort, he drew the covers over us both and held me.

"The final task," I murmured in my half-waking state. "You must tell me what-"

He laid a finger across my lips. "You are not ready yet. _I _am not ready yet. Sleep, my love."

My mind drifted over the horrors I'd seen barely three hours ago and I nodded. He was right. I wasn't ready. All this time I'd been pushing forward through task after task in the hopes of completing them quickly, of remaining detached. Of not being around Martin long enough to lose my heart to him…but it was too late for that now, so why should I rush through things? The empire would stand to see another morning and I needed rest. I curled against him and felt his arms tighten about me. It was funny, in a way: standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, in my armor and accoutrements, we were nearly the same height and my shoulders as broad as any man's. But lying here, in his arms, I felt small and helpless, but safe. Martin would take care of me as best he could, even when I didn't think I needed it.

I had trouble deciding whether that was a good thing or not, but as sleep overtook me it no longer mattered. We had come through another trial in one piece. We would survive anything. _Could _survive anything.

Martin's equally drowsy whisper reached my ears and I realized he thought I was asleep. "Akatosh save me, I thought she was dead. When the siege engine began to emerge from the gate, I thought she had failed- that we were all doomed. I should have been angry, but all I could feel was grief at losing her. I knew the only way she could have failed was if she'd finally been cut down and I couldn't bear to think of her that way- _can't _bear to think of it." His arms squeezed me gently. "And yet here she is again. I know I should focus on the task, should ask this final thing of her, but what if…what if she does not return? What if I lose her again? Akatosh give me strength, I could not live. Please, let me save her someday, as she has saved me. Do not make her suffer anymore, once this is past. I can not stand to think of a world without her in it."

His lips met my forehead and cheek, then my neck and finally rested upon my lips in an excruciatingly tender kiss. Then he lifted his head and tucked me back against him, and slept. I drifted after him into dreams slowly, my ears still ringing with his sweet, anxious words. I felt no eagerness to begin the next task either, but knew his anxiety was unfounded. After all, how could I ever not return to him? Did he not know that he had already saved me, by helping me love again? By giving me a will to live?

How could I ever not see him before me in every waking hour, now that I knew his heart? It was impossible. Nothing would keep me from him ever again. And with that knowledge I followed him into sleep.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

**I do not own Oblivion or make any money off this fic. It all belongs to Bethesda Softworks, I think. But I wish they wanted to buy this story. It's at least as good as the crap novel that just got published. **

**AN: Sorry it's been so long, folks. Been busy writing original fiction, screenplays, etc. Love you all. Stick with me a while longer, yeah? **

* * *

I looked from Martin to Jauffre to Baurus and back. They all looked concerned, cautious. I smiled gently.

"I'm ready."

"Katherine, please, take your time," Jauffre began to say, but Martin cut him off.

"Are you sure? Once you pass through this portal it will close. You will have to find another way out."

"Martin," I said softly. "I'm ready. Please, open the portal."

We'd said our goodbyes hours ago, in one another's arms, and now all I wanted to do was get on with things. I knew the dangers, had listened patiently as Martin had outlined the plan to me. There was no coming back the way I went; no one knew what surprises lay in store for me, except that I would have to battle Mankar Camoran himself in order to regain the Amulet of Kings.

It wasn't a welcome task, but it had to be done- and Heaven knew the man deserved to die, for all the innocent deaths he had incurred on behalf of Mehrunes. I looked back to Martin and put my hand on the hilt of my sword. My wounds were healed, I'd had a full night's rest, and I knew Martin would pray for my safety the entire time I was gone. I was as ready as I would ever be.

His eyes flicked across my face, full of meaning and emotion. "Then stand back, and I will open the portal," he told me.

I took several steps back and watched as he set up the items I'd gathered for him. The Great Sigil Stone, the Great Welkynd Stone, the armor, the star…each took its place and when he spoke the appropriate words their power came together in a flash of light and a great rumble filled the hall.

When I looked again, the ritual was complete. The portal to Mankar Camoran's so-called Paradise filled the small space like a miniature gate to Oblivion. One shiver traced its way up my spine and I straightened my back in response. Here went nothing. I took one last look at Martin's anxious, patient face- the face of the man I loved- and then walked inside.

I could hesitate no longer. It was far too late for caution now.

There was the brief space of nothing, as there always was, and then my feet were on firm ground and the smell of plants and earth met my nose. I opened my eyes and regarded my surroundings solemnly. I could have easily been in the midst of Ayelid ruins along the shores of the Nibenay Bay. Was this it, then? Was this a madman's paradise? Mud and broken slabs of stone and exotic plants?

Surely it was a joke.

And then, as quickly as the thought came it was replaced with a different voice, sounding near and far at once, within my mind. I nearly looked around for the source of it before I realized it was another parlor trick of Mankar's. He was trying to frighten me into betraying the empire- into betraying Martin- by getting inside my head, literally.

It wouldn't work, but I figured I would let the bastard try.

"So, you have come to find me, Hero of Kvatch. I admire your determination. But you will not succeed. Already the gates of Oblivion have opened and are spilling forth the minions of our Lord Dagon, who will take back the empire for the daedra and restore us to our rightful place at his side."

I rolled my eyes and shut my inner curtain against him after that outburst. The gates of Oblivion were open? No shit. I'd been doing nothing but closing them for the last month. Who did Mankar think he was? Did he honestly think I'd be intimidated by his boastful words? I was afraid of many things- of failing Martin, of being cut down by a daedra, of being assaulted by a dremora- but the crazed ravings of a madman were not something that scared me. Especially when all he was doing was pointing out all the things I already knew about him. Besides, I'd faced worse on Solstheim. I was almost surprised the lunatic didn't know that.

It looked like it was going to be one of those missions. The sort where half of me would worry the entire time whether I'd fail Martin and the other half would seethe with eagerness to spill the blood of the deranged man who'd single-handedly ruined the life of my beloved. I hefted my sword. That, at least, was something I could handle, and this time there was no limit. I could be practiced and methodical about the mission. I still needed to get in and out as quickly as possible, but there was no need to lose my focus; or deal with every single beast. The injuries I'd sustained in the Great Gate could have been avoided if I'd been paying closer attention to my surroundings and a little sneakier in my approaches.

As I surveyed the immediate area I could see the slabs of stone that marked what must have once been a path- or perhaps, since this was a world of Mankar's creation, they had always lain that way, since their inception. Either way it didn't matter much- It was clear that they went somewhere and that I should follow them. I crouched low among the bushes, cast an invisibility spell, and began to move forward. Every now and then I would see a daedra moving in the distance, or a half-naked human would run past me; but I stepped aside and let them go on their way, despite the screams of pain I would hear moments later.

I didn't want to know their pathetic stories, or save them from the daedra that were so clearly hunting them. If they were here, in Mankar's Paradise, then they were former servants of his, members of the Mythic Dawn- and they deserved their punishment. I also highly doubted that if I did save one or two that they'd be able to give me any real information on finding Camoran. Besides, I wasn't here to sympathize with my enemies, I was here to retrieve the Amulet of Kings and return it to its rightful owner- _my _rightful master. Martin.

As if sensing my one weakness, Mankar's voice continued to rattle in my head, but I ignored him more easily than ever. I refused to be bullied by him and risk losing my concentration. That was when I realized the path was narrowing and that I was approaching a heavily shaded area, despite the way the sun glanced off the white rocks of the ruins. As I rounded a curve in the path, I could see a door in the face of some rocks directly ahead…and a dremora guarding it.

He was the ugliest, biggest, scariest dremora I'd ever seen, and I was certain that if he noticed me I would be dead. My heart began pounding in my chest. I only hoped Martin couldn't feel it from the other side of wherever I actually was. I decided then that if I made it out of the paradise alive, that I would never speak of it with Martin- or anyone. No one needed to know about the horrors this place presented (which I was only too aware of as I heard another human being ripped to pieces by a daedroth).

He noticed me. How he did it, even with my invisibility on and my careful movements, I cannot guess. The results were the same. He saw me approaching and called out, greeting me. His voice rang in my bones and I nearly flinched away from him, but he held my attention. I knew, as surely as I knew I needed to escape this place, that I had to go through that door and right then he was barring the way.

"Hero of Kvatch," he called me and I stopped dead in my tracks. "You are a skilled and mighty warrior," he continued and approached me slowly. I held my ground and did not lower my weapon, but inclined my head to show I was listening. My hands did not shake, but I could feel some sweat bead across my upper lip.

It was hot in that garden. Humid and disgusting and I wanted out.

"Who are you?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"I am Kathutet," he answered and I could have sworn he smiled, if I hadn't thought Dremora had only one expression- murderous rage. "And you fought well and with honor at the Siege of Kvatch. Some of my relatives- also mighty warriors- fell by your hand. This is most impressive."

His voice was low and gravelly and that ringing never went from it- the kind that shook my bones, even if my hands were steady. I took one step back.

"What do you want? Why are you speaking to me?"

"You must go through me to get into the Grotto," he replied. "You must have on the Bands of the Chosen. Without them you will go no farther."

I gripped my sword more tightly and hefted it some. "Is that a bet?"

"No bet, Champion. The simple truth. However, I would be willing to help you in return for…a favor."

His glittering eyes regarded me quietly, narrowed and for one very long second, I considered his offer. Then I thought of all the other dremora I had encountered, all the pain they had caused thousands of innocent people- the horrors of the plains of Oblivion, and I grit my teeth again.

Whatever he wanted me to do for him would not be good, even if it was fitting justice for the myriad of idiots who now ran naked throughout Camoran's paradise.

"Not a fucking chance, beast," I spat and readied myself for his charge. His expression grew incredulous.

"You would rather fight me?"

"That's what I just said, yes," I returned, took a step forward. He eyed my sword and stance and shook his head.

"You may have defeated my brothers, Hero of Kvatch, but I am not them. You will regret this choice…and you will die."

"Never," I replied and charged before he could say anything more. I got in one good blow before he could lift his weapon and he staggered back. My sword met his staff the second time and I was pushed back, but I held my ground and launched myself at him again before he could react. We danced for minutes, at least, though it seemed as if no time passed at all- the only evidence of my exertion in the sweat that rolled under my armor. Our weapons met again and again, biting into one another until finally my sword glanced off his staff and slipped under his arm, past his defenses. I felt it slide into his body and forced it past the hard metal of his armor and the bone beneath- if it even was bone.

He roared and fell away, sliding off my sword and falling back onto the ground. I leaned back and then stepped away as his body bounced and slid on the rocks before stopping dead. Cautiously I walked up to him and gave his form a vicious little kick. He didn't react; he was dead. I closed my eyes and heaved a shaky sigh, then knelt beside him and began to search his body. Bands of the Chosen, he'd said. I had no idea what he meant, but I knew he had them and I needed them to enter the Grotto, apparently.

My hand closed over something hard and cylindrical and I pulled it back to find I was grasping a pair of wrist cuffs. Arm bands that had some sort of special design on them and glowed with magic. The Bands of the Chosen. So, that was what he meant. I stood up, sword at my side and bands in hand and stared down the path at the door into the Grotto. For a long moment I just stood and stared and then, without stopping to think, I snapped the bands on and felt a brief surge of power. I stared down at them. There was no going back now. I would never get them off on my own, the door to Camoran's paradise was sealed and I was Martin's only hope. An entire empire of people, their fate resting on my solid, but unsure, shoulders. I gripped my sword with both hands and started for the door, my speed picking up as I approached it. There was no turning back. I would meet everything head on from here. I passed through the door.


	20. Chapter 20

**I do not own Oblivion, its plot or npcs. All that belongs to Bethesda Softworks. No profit being made, here. (Unless they want to buy the rights to this awesome fic, in which case, I'm in.)**

**AN: Wow, another update so soon! you say. That's right. I'm a house of fire. I LOVED writing this chapter, for the record. Pathos is sooo my thing. Angst angst angst. I eat it for breakfast. Oh, and to all my reviewers who don't have accounts and thus I can't respond to your lovely reviews (you know who you are), thanks so much. I'm really glad you're liking it so well. :)**

* * *

It was dark inside, and damp and I paused while I let my eyes adjust to the poor light. I put my hand to the wall of the tunnel and began to feel my way along the new terrain. The caverns were just like every other set of caves I'd been through in Cyrodiil and despite the occasional monster, I felt confident in my progress. When I hit water I knew I was nearly to the right place. Up ahead, I could see another door, most likely leading to the real Grotto. I hesitated, made sure my grip on my sword was strong, and finally pushed through.

It was much lighter in the Forbidden Grotto and I hesitated again in the shelter of the doorway in order to get the lay of the land. I could see clanfear scattered about, a few robed figures. It appeared there was a channel of lava flowing through the caves and the final horror topped off my view as I saw men and women in cages being lowered into that fiery river. So, this was the truth of Mankar's paradise. Prison and torture. It was sick and I wanted nothing better than to run through the caves, freeing the prisoners and killing everything in sight.

With some effort, I held myself back from such action. After all, everything in this world was immortal. Any action I took would only make things worse for the prisoners- and it wasn't like they didn't deserve their punishment. Besides which, finding Camoran and taking back the Amulet of Kings was my true goal. I didn't have any time to waste feeling sorry for the scum that littered this sick world, or slowing myself down by killing creatures that would spring to life again seconds later.

My decision made- the path of least resistance- I shuffled through my catalogue of spells until I found a cloak of invisibility that would sustain for a minute or two. It was a lot of magic, but it would be worth it, could I run fast enough and nothing blocked my path. Raising my fist, I cast the spell and started out from hiding. I raced low to the ground, crossing the bridge over the river of lava and turned through another tunnel. I found myself in another cavernous area and continued to race about, dodging the scamps and clanfear, holding my breath as I passed dremora.

And then, just as I rounded another corner, an Altmer man in a robe- one of the ascended Mythic Dawn, no doubt- looked directly at me. I backed away into a corner, afraid I had been spotted and fearful of my time running out. I could feel the invisibility spell weakening and I gripped my sword, drew it partly from its sheath. But no, the man walked right past me and gazed down the corridor from whence I'd just come. I was so terrified that he would turn around as my spell wore off that I acted without thinking. Crouching low I swiftly drew my sword and ran him through, his back still turned. An icy chill gripped my heart as I saw what I'd done and I drew my sword back in horror. I'd wasted the last precious seconds of invisibility on murdering scum…and neither was I any better than him.

I whipped about, convinced I'd been seen. The prickle of hairs on the back of my neck told me I was no fool, that someone had witnessed my act, but I saw no one and I quickly crouched low again and hugged the wall. I could hear the murmur of voices, the shouts of beasts and men and I knew that someone would discover me soon. Not to mention that even once I reached the exit, I had no idea how I would escape. I glanced to my left again and saw the body of the man I'd murdered was gone. My heart raced. He'd resurrected. Great. In the seconds I'd wasted since I'd finished wasting seconds killing him, I'd let him get back up and now he was probably going to spot me and kill me anyway-

My suddenly terrorized thoughts were interrupted by a hand on my shoulder and a voice to the right of me.

"Who are you? You're not supposed to be here. You're not a prisoner. What are you doing here?"

I jerked my head around and hefted my sword again, but he held up his hands in surrender and his face was open and curious. I wondered if he realized I'd just killed him and decided it didn't matter much.

"Please, I only want to know."

"I'm here to kill Mankar Camoran," I spat and I felt for all the world like a cornered animal, ready to lunge at any moment. He must have sensed it, for he lowered his hands and his voice.

"Are you really? Oh, please, let me help you. You'll never leave the Forbidden Grotto with those bands on and I'm the only person who will help you. I can take them off for you."

I stared at him in confusion. "Why would you do that?" I hissed, still clinging to the wall. But both our heads turned in the direction of sounds and he looked back at me seriously.

"My name is Eldamil and I admit, I was once an agent of the Mythic Dawn. Like all these fools, I bought into the wonderful stories and mythos Camoran sold us. But the realities of his paradise are nothing but a brutal hell. I was at the Siege of Kvatch. I saw what happened there- they were unprepared and we crushed them in minutes with very little loss to ourselves. I thought they deserved to die."

I waved one hand sharply and glared at him. "I have no desire to hear the story of your realization that you were an imbecile and a terrible person," I growled. "Just tell me what in all of Tamriel I have to do to get the hell out of this stinking hole. I have business that cannot wait any longer."

He stopped short and eyed me coolly, but with understanding. "No, you should know the rest. I was torn to pieces by some of the very ants I sought to crush. They fought with such passion for so little, even though all was already lost. Dying by their hands only to be delivered here, where life means absolutely nothing and yet we are still torn to pieces…it has changed me. I have had much time to consider my sins. Perhaps in helping you I might-"

"I don't care," I said shortly and he furrowed his brow, but did not frown. "I don't care if you think that by helping me you are saving your soul, or making up for past transgressions, or what in Tiber Septim's name. It doesn't matter to me. I have to trust you now, don't I? That or run through the legion of guards down here until I make it out. And I won't make it out if I don't have these things off. So I'm stuck with you." I took a deep breath as he stared at me in shock. "Well? Tell me what I must do."

"You are different, Champion, than the way we imagined you," he said softly and shook his head. Then he looked up at me again. "Alright. From here on out you must do exactly as I say." He gazed over his shoulder. "They must be convinced you are merely a prisoner, or we will bring the whole guard upon us. Are you ready?"

I nodded and sheathed my sword, then followed him out into the open. When we approached the next river of lava, my feet slowed behind his. He stopped next to a lever and I looked at him.

"Go on," he said hastily. "You must do as I say."

"Go on? In there?" I dared ask in return, even as I noticed a dremora moving across the wide space towards us. I knew I could just kill them all right then, but I forced myself to be calm. I needed Eldamil's help. I looked at the cage he'd directed me to and forced my feet forward until they carried me up into the contraption. I turned, trying desperately to control the shaking in my knees, and stared stolidly out from my position as prisoner and slave…and vowed I would never be in that position again. I'd had enough of injustice back in Cyrodiil. Yet here I was, in chains again. My anger at my position fueled me and I stoked the fires high, eager to be out and away, ready to complete my mission. All I wanted to do was kill Camoran and leave this forsaken place so that I could take my rightful one by Martin's side, as his Champion- even if half of me still didn't believe in destiny.

I took deep, steadying breaths as I watched the dremora approach and speak to Eldamil, who answered in turn. Then the cage door closed and he was lowering me into the channel. I looked down and felt hot steam hit my face, burning the downy hairs upon my cheeks away, singing my brows. I tried to hold my breath as long as I could, but eventually had to take a burning breath of hot air. That was when reality hit me, when I turned and saw the cage beside mine, not yards away. There was a woman in it and she was screaming in pain as her cage was lowered. I watched as she was dropped until lava covered her up to her shoulders- then even lower, creeping up her neck and over her head. Her screams stopped briefly and I looked down at my boots. Eldamil hadn't even let me get low enough for the lava to touch me. I decided to let out a few good screams just to make it convincing and felt my cage being lifted almost immediately. I turned back to look at the other woman in time to see her charred, but still screaming body rising out of the river. She turned one ghastly, lidless and bloodied eye towards me as her screams continued. My heart wrenched, but I turned away.

I was not there to rescue her, though I supposed the destruction of Mankar's paradise would mean her release. I was there to save the living, not the damned and I had to act like it. But it was in that moment- as inapropos as it was- that I knew I no longer needed my iron curtain. I was still hard, yes, unbreakable, but it was actually my feelings which made me that way. Which fueled me to complete the tasks I was given. And they were hard tasks. Impossible, for anyone else. But it was because I knew I would breathe and laugh and love at the end of the day that made me continue to pick up my feet and see things through to the end.

Still, that knowledge did not make my heart less heavy as I turned back to see Eldamil standing on the same side of the ravine, watching me as the cage opened to the other side. I looked back at him in puzzlement.

"I cannot cross," he said. "I will meet you farther on where I can remove the bands for you. Go, I will distract the guards!"

I did as he told me and I went. I ran, in fact. Summoning my invisibility I carried on, doubling back when I realized I'd taken a wrong turn, avoiding the evil and foul looking things which stood in my way. Tried to ignore the sting of blistering skin the heat of the lava channel had left upon my face, not to mention that everywhere my bare skin touched my metal armor, I burned. When I finally reached the doorway and saw Eldamil I was not feeling as grateful as I had previously. Still, I tried to smile for him as he removed the bands. Despite his immortality, he was risking much to help me. He was gambling his entire life's beliefs on me.

"I was worried, but you've made it," he murmured as happily as he could. I was about to respond when I heard Mankar's voice in my head again. It buzzed in my ear mockingly, though I detected a hint of fear, I was certain. The fool was no longer as sure of himself. I looked up at Eldamil to find him watching me strangely.

"Are you-" he began and I shook my head, laid my hand upon my sword.

"Let's go," I muttered and he nodded in return as I pushed open the stone doors to the outer world.

* * *

Stepping out into the light, it was like being in a different place. I saw that Camoran had clearly saved the best of his paradise for himself. The white steps were unblemished and unbroken but for the soil which bound them into the hillside. All around were beautiful, large blooms. Purple and blue, and all the other good things growing there. I took a deep breath and before I knew what I was doing, I actually paused in my ascent to capture some of those jewel-toned petals for myself. I heard Eldamil's footsteps behind me and I took the moment to savor the air. Despite the evil that permeated every level of such an evil paradise, it too held beauty. Coming up the final steps it was even more clear. A small platform with a stone railing circling the front sat at the edge of the mountain top. I stepped onto the stones and gazed out across the world of Mankar's creation. The sun was in a perpetual state of setting or rising, I couldn't tell which. Only that shades of rose and purple lit the sky with their brilliance and the dim rays brought fire to the branches of every tree. I inhaled deeply once more and turned to look at Eldamil.

This was it, our eyes said as they met and I nodded once, then started back and to the hall Camoran now called his home. I drew my sword in preparation and we made it as far as the bottom of the steps when two Altmer approached us. At least, they looked Altmer, but I knew from Martin that in reality Mankar was a mutt of a man and not pureblooded anything- not that any of us were that pureblooded . I imagined it was his spotted heritage that had partly led him down the path of cynicism and hatred towards all things Empire. After all, why believe in the Divines when those claiming to represent them said you were no better than a half breed slave? But my focus was wandering. The calm atmosphere of the mountain top paradise was getting to me, clouding my judgment. There was no reason to feel sorry for Camoran. He'd made a choice to live his life that way, murdering and thieving. Believing the evils of a daedric god for the sake of personal glory. I shook my head and stopped short of the woman who approached us, the man behind her clearly her brother. Their resemblance was uncanny, as were the sneers of derision upon their faces. I stepped back as she began speaking.

"So, we meet again, foolish mortal. Did you really think you had seen the last of us? You will meet your death in this place."

With a start I realized I did recognize her. I had seen her back at the shrine to Dagon, when I'd gone berserk and slaughtered her and half her kin in my desperate attempt to regain the Amulet. I sneered in return, but she swept over my defiance and turned away.

"Come. Our father is waiting. Do not do anything foolish, Hero."

I felt Eldamil at my back, energy thrumming through him and into me as he waited for my next move. I clenched my fist at my side as I watched the brother and sister begin to walk away, up the steps, and gathered magicka about my hand. Then, without warning, I raised my hand and sent a flurry of fireballs at their backs.

The two of them turned, ready to charge me, but I met them head on with a second wave of the magic and they went down without ever touching me. Eldamil raced around me to their bodies, ready to finish them if necessary, but they were already dead. He turned and gazed at me with new admiration, but I shrugged off his praise. There was still one more person to confront and he waited in the great hall beyond.

I moved swiftly, running the whole way down the elevated path to the entrance, Eldamil right behind me. I knew there was no time to waste if I wanted the use of my last magicka to mean anything. Mankar's children might rise at any moment. Without waiting for anyone, I shoved into the hall Camoran held court in, the stone doors shutting solidly behind me. Whether Eldamil arrived seconds later or not, I do not know. His aid had been minimal and mostly it had been nice to have a companion the final part of the way. His presence had helped keep me sane in these last moments. But what I had to do now, I had to do on my own. I paused only long enough to survey the great hall with its tall columns and dais at the very end, Mankar standing in judgment over an empty room. It struck me as incredibly pathetic and without further thought, I started forward.

He spoke to me directly, for once. I didn't know whether to be grateful or not, but it did provide me the distraction I needed. He was so busy pontificating, so full of himself, that he either didn't notice me getting closer, or didn't care. I let his words roll over me as I moved, let them fuel my previous anger. But there would be no delight in this kill, only infinitesimal relief and infinite sadness that this was what avenging the emperor's death had come to. Uriel's justice, in exchange for this madman's life. It was sick and made me so, but my feet continued to carry me forward anyway.

"_I have waited a long time for you, Champion of Old Tamriel. You are the last gasp of a dying age. You breathe the stale air of false hope. How little you understand! You cannot stop Lord Dagon. The walls between our worlds are crumbling. The Mythic Dawn grows nearer with every rift in the firmament."_

I suddenly felt Eldamil at my shoulder and heard his voice, too.

"He has many enchantments protecting him. His weaknesses are not many, but if you strike at him plainly, forwardly, you may have a chance."

I turned my head slightly, my gaze never leaving Camoran. "You mean take him down with my sword?" Eldamil didn't respond and I allowed myself a small smile. "Friend," I murmured, "I was planning on it anyway."

And as Camoran continued to spout his derisive madness, I approached as swiftly as I dared. His eyes followed my every motion, but he did not back down. He thought I was enraptured with him, with his words and he did not move away, but merely spoke more confidently.

"_Soon, very soon, the lines now blurred will be erased. Tamriel and Oblivion rejoined! The Mythic Age reborn! Lord Dagon shall walk Tamriel again. The world shall be re-"_

His words broke off midsentence with a grunt as I ran him through and he gazed up at me with wide eyes, lips twisting in disbelief.

"Your world is about to be reborn," I hissed at him. "But Cyrodiil, or even all of Tamriel? Not while I'm alive, you madman."

He gave a gasp and then a howl of rage and flung himself off my sword and away from me. I could see him reaching behind him, grabbing for his staff and I leapt and was upon him again, hacking away as quickly as I could. I did not let up until I heard the final wheeze of air leave his bloodied lips and then I felt Eldamil's hand upon my shoulder.

"Quickly now," the elf said. "This world will collapse at any moment!" Then he was away from me.

I knew he was right, already I could feel the earth moving beneath my feet. I heard a cry and looked back to see the ceiling falling in. A piece had already caught Eldamil beneath it, crushing him in his run for the door. I had seconds to retrieve the amulet. Turning back, I looked at Camoran's body and saw it there, glittering about his neck. The shock I felt at realizing someone other than a Septim was wearing it stayed my motion long enough for another piece of masonry to crash to the ground. The rumbling was all around me now and I sprang into action, grasping the Amulet and yanking it from about his neck. More stonework fell about my ears and I dashed down the steps and towards the door. It was blocked with debris and I heard the columns rending from the ceiling. Narrowly avoiding one as it fell, I ducked under a nearby over hang and watched as the seat of Camoran's power crumbled about his corpse.

"By Akatosh," I breathed and threw myself further into a corner as another great chunk of stone crashed right in front of me. I crouched low and covered my head, the Amulet still in my hands, and I prayed. I prayed Martin was right, and I would be released from this horrific prison, rather than buried here forever. More stones fell, faster and faster and dust rose, clouding my vision, filling my lungs. My pleas to the Divines grew more desperate as darkness crept to edge of my vision.

And then finally, blessedly, the light came.

* * *

**AN: Cookie? Cake? Tell me you liked it.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I own no part of TES or Oblivion. It all belongs to Bethesda Softworks, blah blah blah, rights reserved, no money made, whatever.**

**AN: I had this written a couple days ago but it wouldn't let me upload it. Mother licker. So, here is another exciting installment of the Coldstone saga. I have a confession and I figured I would share it now before I mistakenly applique it on a postcard and mail it to PostSecret where millions may view it with voyeuristic intent. Nay, I shall own my geekdom here and now: every time I play Oblivion my heart aches for Martin. The first time I played the game, I didn't even realize I was in love with him until the end of the main quest and I was bawling over my keyboard. There, I admitted it. I HAVE NO LIFE AND LOVE A FICTIONAL VIDEO GAME CHARACTER. Of course, I also love killing monsters, so...**

* * *

I landed back where I'd started, in the middle of the great hall at Cloud Ruler. My lungs were still full of dust and I toppled over the minute I found my footing, bringing my hands to my face and neck, tearing my armor and hood away. I heard the other Blades cheering for me, but their calls died down quickly as they realized I wasn't responding. Someone called my name and moved towards me. I put out the hand that held the amulet and thrust it towards the voice.

"You did it- by the Nine, you escaped. Camoran is dead then? And this, then, is the Amulet?"

I nodded and coughed some more before looking up. My brow was streaked with sweat and dirt from the cave in, I knew, and tears still ran down my cheeks from the effort of breathing, but I was alive and mostly unscathed.

"He is dead. The Amulet is yours again, Sire," I managed hoarsely. Martin shook his head and helped me up before gingerly taking the jewel.

"Katherine, I-" his eyes filled and he looked away, at the Amulet in his hands, then glanced up at me, his eyes dry again. "Thank you. You've done more than any of us hoped."

I shook my head. "Go on, put it on."

Jauffre and the other Blades were watching the scene tensely as well. That was when I noticed Martin's dress. I brushed some of my filthy hair out of my eyes and gazed at him objectively. He was already in his robe, his hair brushed, face scrubbed. He looked every inch the king already, even without the Amulet on, and the difference between us was stark. But it was only as Martin held the Amulet, gazing at it sadly, rather than putting in on, that I realized what any of it meant.

They meant to be off to the Imperial City, for Martin to light the Dragonfire and ascend the throne without even any time to rest, or assimilate the information. And they expected me to lead him there, no doubt, with no thought to my feelings on the subject.

I felt very small and ill-used in that second, and I closed my eyes briefly against the pain of knowing it was only my duty, after all. So, I had been Martin's bed warmer for a few nights. That was probably also my duty. Still, there was a job to be done. I wrapped my heartache up tightly and opened my eyes again to find Martin watching me quietly. Looking to me as if I knew what he should do.

"Why haven't you put it on?" I asked and wiped my cheeks free of tears, on the pretense of clearing sweat off my brow.

"It's just that…it is one thing to be the theoretical heir. It is quite another to actually take over the rule of an entire empire," he murmured and gazed back at the Amulet.

"You must wear it," I urged him. "Only you can. Please, Martin." _Don't make this any harder than it need be_, were the words that fell into the silence between us. He finally nodded and placed the Amulet's chain about his neck. And of course, it lay there against his chest, sparkling brilliantly and completely at home. I had to work hard not to turn away from the sight. Then the Blades were cheering again and Jauffre was speaking.

"Quickly, there is no time to lose. We must ride to the Imperial City at once so Martin may be recognized by Chancellor Ocato as the new emperor."

I nearly sputtered in my sudden anger. "Ocato? Why? He has done nothing for our cause! Nothing for the Oblivion Crisis!"

Martin held up a hand as Jauffre eyed me sternly and I felt Baurus suddenly at my side, standing with me in solidarity, though he, too placed a staying hand on my shoulder.

"I know it seems unreasonable, but he is still the voice of the empire right now. He has seen to its affairs while we have dealt with the crisis. It is only right that we appeal to him…to decorum."

I wanted to spit, I was so angry. Decorum? Honor? Who cared for such things when it was Martin and the Blades- no, when it was _I _who had single-handedly run over hill and dale, purged a multitude of dungeons and caverns and closed countless Oblivion gates? I gave a sudden gasp and turned away, hunching my shoulders, gathering myself against the onslaught of emotion. I saw them all for who they truly were, now. Pawns, each of them. And myself? The biggest fool of all. Yet I loved Martin still, would die for him.

I was forced to close my eyes again in the face of a harsh reality and I managed to turn and nod without another word. Only Martin, when he bothered to look at me, and my fellow Blades, perhaps, knew what I was feeling in that moment. I saw Jauffre clap his hands, clap Martin on the back and announce to the Blades that we were moving out.

And I followed. I was not the leader of our mission any longer. No, it was Jauffre's job now, as the leader of the Blades- and Martin's, as the new emperor. I hefted myself into Lore's saddle outside Cloud Ruler's walls and forced myself to gallop ahead of the party. I could not bear to look at them any longer.

Any of them.

* * *

The journey to the Imperial City was long and it was dark and cold for most of it. We traveled fast as we dared with so large a party and such precious cargo, but we did not stop, even for brief rest. Even if I did not like my duty any longer, I knew it well and I understood the importance of every precious moment. Martin would be delivered safely to the Elder Council, whether I liked it or not. That I swore to myself and to him, when I took the Blades' vows. No one approached to speak to me as we rode and I looked back only a few times, to make sure they were still safe. I did my best to clear the path for them, riding on ahead to deal with bandits and the stray troll or other beast. It kept me from interacting with them much, anyway, and once they saw the viciousness in every arc of my blade as I hacked at yet another ill-intentioned highwayman, they stayed away willingly. If any of their eyes followed me, it was only Martin's, and even then I'm sure I imagined the sad glances directed towards me in the creeping gloom.

My head was too full of my own shame and anger to pay much attention. Lore could feel it, and he reacted accordingly, whinnying and tossing his head in order to roll his eyes at me. As if he could ask me what was wrong.

What was wrong? The question made me want to laugh and cry all at once. What was wrong was that I'd forgotten all my training, for the sake of an embrace from a man who would never be with me, after today. That I'd given myself to him, heart and soul, and in return I had the privilege of going into battle for him. Of standing at his side as his _champion_, and nothing more. And in doing so, I'd released a part of me that, now it had tasted freedom, would never be the same. I'd never be able to return to my old self- the one who fought stoically, practically. The one who scoffed at love and desired only a toss in the hay. The one who was so good at her job she'd been chosen as champion in the first place. How was I supposed to live, now?

Worse still was the knowledge that such freedom actually made me better at what I did. Had I not just had that realization, completing that final task for Martin? Yet here I was, ashamed at myself, and angry. Wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep for weeks. Gods take it, I hadn't felt like that…well, ever. I couldn't ever remember feeling that way, save perhaps when my sister…but that felt like a long time ago, now. A very long time ago.

I focused on the road ahead and out of the morning mist off Rumare, I could see the Wawnet Inn rising out of the darkness. I pulled Lore up and glanced behind me again, lifting a hand when I could see the party nearing.

"We approach the city," I called, then rode ahead again, before any could respond. I rode Lore hard across the great bridge , slowing only when we neared the stables. Dismounting, I took a moment to press my still filthy forehead to his. I rubbed his neck and gave him a kiss, pressed my cheek to his, looked him in the eye.

"I know, boy," I murmured. "I am sorry for the ride. Perhaps after this we will part again. You could become some other young monk's faithful steed, have a well-earned retirement. Hmm? Would you like that?" He snorted and stamped and I let myself laugh, once. There was a light footfall behind me and I ignored it in order to pet Lore a few more times.

"I do not think he would like that very much," Martin said softly and I turned to gaze at him before sending Lore off into the paddock. "Katherine-" he began, but I shook my head sharply and he stopped. I turned to him.

"I am sorry, Martin," I said. "Emperor. You never promised me anything. It was just a shock, to come back, seeing you in your finery." I hesitated, glanced at the ground. "It made me uncomfortable. But I am fine now, aside from requiring rest and a good bath." I laughed awkwardly, tried to let him know that whatever lay between us now, it was my fault. The betrayal I was feeling was due entirely to my mishandling of my own damnable heart. I did not blame him. He was not the one who'd forgotten his duty. After all, I had been but a prisoner before my sins were forgotten in exchange for my heroism. I should thank Martin every day of my life. And I would, though perhaps not for the right reasons.

"It makes me uncomfortable as well, Katherine," he replied. "Please, let me-"

I cut him off. "We must get you to the Chancellor. Come, your majesty." And after a slight hesitation, I heard him sigh and follow me, as Jauffre and the others came up behind us.

* * *

How to describe what I felt in those last miserable hours as the Empire's champion? As the pawn of Uriel's deluded prophecies, and as a woman who was in love? I felt nothing and everything at once. I was numb and yet I burned. I was overjoyed and yet despaired. And in the long minutes as we walked the still dim streets of the Imperial City, our somber, yet triumphant troop catching stares all along the way, I was in utter agony.

I'd learned to love- I would love all the rest of my days- and yet I would be as emotionally distant from Martin as I was physically from my family in Skyrim. The shock I'd felt from the transition of those final chaotic moments in Mankar's paradise to seeing Martin as the new emperor in the great hall at Cloud Ruler had muddled me entirely. I was no longer the woman I thought I'd grown into. Even loving Martin, before his ascension, I thought I'd known how to handle that. But this…these seconds were so completely different. I felt like a strange, new person. As though the heart that beat in my chest was not my own; like I had been transplanted into another body.

I smiled at the guards we met, I cheered with the other Blades. I held doors open and I raised my hand in greeting and salute. But it was not me. The long nightmare was coming to a close, but I was not waking up in my own skin. I was waking from the nightmare of Oblivion into a nightmare of heartache and longing; and no matter what I told myself about duty, or how lucky I was just to be at his side, I could not make myself believe otherwise.

We moved into the Elder Council's chambers as one unit and I stood to the side with the other Blades as we watched Ocato enter and greet Martin. Still, I was not myself. My breath came funny and my heart beat fast. I watched with wide, aching eyes as Ocato professed his approval and support of Martin. Still, my legs felt weak, my stomach aflutter. And when Martin knelt to receive Ocato's blessing, and my vision blurred, my head reeled, I knew what was wrong with me.

My body was not my own. It belonged to Martin, now.

That was the moment disaster struck.

"Chancellor! Your Highness!" The frantic man's shouts brought me around, shook the haze from my thoughts. I immediately lay my hand on the hilt of my sword and took a step in his direction. All the Blades followed suit and we waited to hear the rest.

"It is too late! Another gate has opened! Please, hurry!"

"Another gate? What is going on?"

"There is no time to waste, please!"

"We must go!"

"Outside, quick!"

Shouting filled my ears and I quickly moved to Martin's side. He exchanged a worried glance with me and I suddenly knew that, no matter what happened once he was on the throne, I would be fine. We would be fine. We had come too far together to not hold some place in one another's lives.

The earth seemed to shake as we stepped outside the doors of the Imperial Palace. A red glare had filled the sky, darkening it with soot and clouds the color of blood. Daedra and dremora ran amok in the streets before us. I hissed and drew my sword. I knew what this meant. The messenger had not been mistaken.

"Another gate," I ground out, anger flooding me again. Would we never be safe? Then the earth shook again and my gaze was drawn upwards, to the walls of the Temple District.

No. We wouldn't ever be safe again. Fear made my stomach clench in knots and I immediately shielded Martin with my own body. Ocato and Jauffre turned to me.

"It is too late for the Dragonfires," Ocato murmured, his voice weak.

"What is that?" I asked, looking to the men for explanation, even though I felt in my bones what it was. I knew.

"Mehrunes Dagon," Martin whispered from behind me. I turned to him and he looked back at me seriously, face full of determination.

"It is too late for the Dragonfires," he confirmed. "Too many gates have opened now. But perhaps…perhaps if I can only get to the Temple of the One, something may be done."

"Are you insane?" I exclaimed. "Mehrunes is in the Temple District! You can't go in there!"

Martin gazed at me, undeterred. "Not without you, you're right. Katherine, will you go with me? Take me to the Temple of the One? It is our only way."

"Hell," I muttered, but turned away, swinging my sword out before me. The heart that beat in my chest was beating for me, once again and filled me with some kind of hope. I glanced over my shoulder. "Let's kill some monsters. I'll get you to the Dragonfires, Martin."

I am convinced he would have smiled at me if Jauffre had not appeared so forbidding just then. Together, our band made its way down the street. I monitored Martin as best I could. With so many daedra streaming about, I was the only one who could afford to make Martin a priority and not be risking my own life at the same time. I knew he was unhappy about it, but I used my magicka to heal him and not myself. The third time it happened and he tried to chastise me, I cut down a dremora who was rushing up behind him.

"You were saying?" I gasped as sweetly as possible and I swear he rolled his eyes at me. Then I grasped his hand and pulled him through the doors of the Temple District…

* * *

…and right into the direct path of Mehrunes himself. The roar of the god-monster, of his lesser minions and of the fires of the Oblivion gates themselves filled the air. I couldn't speak, let alone think. All I knew was the feel of Martin's hand in mine as we fought, side by side, through the sea of creatures.

I lost Martin's hand for one brief second and my world fell about my ears.

"Martin!" I screamed and turned to look, only to find him battling a scamp who'd grabbed hold of his robes.

"Martin!" I yelled again, tearing through another clanfear to get to him, slicing the head from the scamp's body. Martin staggered and fell into my arms and I stumbled to hold him as the earth shook again. Glancing up I saw Mehrunes stalking ever near us. "Martin, we must go," I whispered hurriedly and raised my hand to cast another healing spell. He stayed my motion and I felt his fingers against my lips.

"No, Katherine. Enough of that. Get me to the Temple."

I felt tears fill my eyes and I helped him stand, before taking out another beast with a mighty arc of my sword. I looked to Martin.

"This way," I said and my voice trembled. He clutched my hand and did not let go again.

I would not let him.


	22. Chapter 22

**I own no part of TES or its franchise and make no profit off this fic. It all belongs to Bethesda Softworks. I think.**

**AN: This is by no means the final chapter.**

* * *

Making our way past a god himself was not so impossible. If I were able to view it objectively and calmly, I'm sure I could even make some sort of suggestion about how it was good for testing one's skills. As it went, the entire experience was similar to my closing the Great Gate while a doomsday machine made its terrible way towards my emperor. I kept my head down, my sword up and I ran hard…and tried not to get stepped on. The only difference this time was that I was trying desperately to keep hold of Martin at the same time and not worry that I would lose him at any minute. As another fireball hit the stone wall between our heads, I swore and yanked hard at him.

"That is it," I growled. "I have had it up to here with bloody daedra!" Martin looked at me as though I'd grown two heads and I glared at him. What precious seconds we might have left and I wasted some on glaring at the man I loved.

"The Temple, Katherine," he muttered and I looked away, around the curve of the stones. We were on the outside of the Temple, hugging its walls in order to make it around to the door safely.

"We're almost there," I responded and glanced back only to see a dremora rushing up to us. "Oh no you don't!" I howled and with a burst of insanity or adrenaline, I used the last of my magicka to cast paralyzing spells at the daedra running amok in the street. I looked at Martin again. "I've bought us a few seconds- come on!"

I pulled hard, but Martin didn't need the encouragement. He was right behind me as we slipped past Mehrunes' mighty legs and up to the door of the chapel. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I felt sure it would beat its way right out of my ribcage, but then the handle of the chapel door was in my hands and I was pulling hard on it, instead of Martin. Then- oh, blessed Akatosh- then, we were inside.

* * *

The atmosphere inside the Temple was cool and calm. It was surreal, after the heat of battle just outside to be in the sanctuary, but I wasn't going to argue with anyone just then. I took two deep breaths and closed my eyes briefly and I could almost pretend that none of this was happening. I fell against the wall of the chapel, just inside the doors and saw Martin slipping in behind me, his expression also calmer. My heart began to return to its normal spot in my chest, but another shake of the earth, some rattling of dust and pebbles from high in the temple's ceiling, brought my fear home to me and I was immediately alert again.

"I hope you know what you're doing!" I yelled as I followed him, dashing from the doorway over to an alcove further inside the temple. I glanced over to see Martin looking at the altar for the Dragonfires almost sadly and that was when the first inkling of the truth burrowed into my stomach. Fear had suddenly done more than find a home within me. I called to him again and he closed the distance, embraced me.

"Katherine, do not be afraid."

I scoffed, but allowed him to hold me a second longer anyway. When I pulled away I wanted to say, "I don't fear anything," but the words would not leave my lips. I feared many things, now. And he knew it and would see my lie the instant it left my lips. So instead I kept quiet and eyed him nervously.

"Mehrunes is an immortal. Now that he has been released, only another immortal can have any hope of sending him back to his own plane of existence."

"So the Dragonfires-"

"Lighting them will do no good, as I said before. But there is a chance-"

"You said that before too," I interrupted. "Martin, what are you planning?"

"There is no time to explain. Just- please, trust me, Katherine. And know that what I do now, I do for the good of the Empire. It is my duty as a Septim to protect this land, these people, is it not?"

"Martin," I begged, "there must be another way." I did not know exactly what he intended to do. But I knew it would involve leaving me…to save the empire.

"There is no other way, Katherine. I must use the amulet and call upon Akatosh to save us now. Only he can defeat Mehrunes Dagon. With my blood- the blood of the Septims and this, the blood of the Divine himself…Katherine, you know it is the only way."

He began to turn, as if to go, but something in my face must have stopped him for he gazed at me again. I wasn't crying because I couldn't. The shock was too great for my pitiful heart to even comprehend, but there was no way to hold back the flood of emotion rushing through me. My face felt twisted with a grief so indescribable, a fear so great that I didn't know myself in those moments. And my heart felt the same. Martin's face held surprise, then tenderness and he reached his hands up, taking my face between them.

"You have been the greatest friend and love to me, Katherine. In my time of need you never failed me once. I could not have asked for a better hero…or a better companion. What I do now, I do out of necessity, but it is you who have saved us all. It is you who have saved me. Never doubt my love for you."

We looked into one another's eyes and I felt his lips upon mine, so briefly that I wasn't even sure of him; yet of all our passionate encounters, I knew that tender good bye was the one I would carry with me until my own end. Then he was gone, running across the way and standing at the altar of the great dragon.

I knew his last words to me were the only confession before the gods I would ever receive from him. If we'd had more time; if he were able to ascend the thrown, pick a wife, have heirs like any normal king then, yes. I believed I would have heard those words from him someday, in a small chapel, with an exchange of rings- even if he'd had to fight Ocato himself to secure it.

But he and I had known all along none of those were ever his fate. Not my Martin. Not the Emperor Martin Septim.

I watched, frozen, from my corner of the chapel as he stood in front of the altar and took his place. He lifted the amulet in his hands, but just as he did, Mehrunes Dagon made his entrance. With a mighty crash the daedra lord carved open the front of the chapel of Akatosh, knocking the wall and most of the dome in with his strength. He towered over the small figure of Martin and roared, swiping at him, but Martin seemed to stare him down as he broke the amulet.

I felt my heart breaking with it, the pieces high in my throat as I watched Martin take his final breaths. The power consumed him almost immediately, with an otherworldly light shining down from gods only knew what source, lifting his body up as it was devoured by the blood of the dragon. as the light obliterated him completely. Then, just as quickly as it had arrived, the light disappeared, leaving myself and Mehrunes in the chapel. The mighty prince of Oblivion howled his anger triumphantly over the city and I shivered.

I was frightened to the very core of my being. Not only had I just lost Martin, I was now face to face with the reason why. Frustration welled up within me and I drew my sword when the great demon lay his eyes upon me. I moved from the safety of my corner, ready to die as well.

I wanted to die, without Martin.

And then the gods answered my hopeless plea. Seconds after the breaking of the amulet, a dragon- _the_ dragon- Akatosh, himself, appeared in the sky, descending through the clouds to alight upon the ruined Temple of the One. A mighty battle began between the two: daedric prince and divine deity. Each vying for domination over not just one another, but an entire world. The fate of all of Tamriel rested upon the outcome of this battle.

I was rooted to my spot- so close to the fighting gods that I could feel the heat from the dragon's breath; I could feel the stones of the chapel floor shake beneath my feet with every rumble; I could see the terrible wounds each inflicted upon the other. It was captivating and terrifying and I had stopped breathing, my heart had stopped beating as I watched the two battle for power. Akatosh made a brave stand against Mehrunes twice, his brilliant form seemingly unstoppable- but then I saw Mehrunes lift his axe high and deal the dragon a terrible blow. I gasped as I saw Akatosh beat his wings hurriedly, pulling back from Dagon in injury. The tears I had been unable to shed before now spilled down my cheeks.

"Martin!" I cried out, unable to bear it any longer. "I love you, you fool! If you lose now I'll kill you myself!"

I know now it was fancy, but then, to be there in the midst of the battle, to see the dragon with my own two eyes…

I will swear to my dying day that Akatosh seemed to hear my cries. I saw him rise up again, stretching his wings wide before making one final rush at the demon. He spilled fire upon Mehrunes' shoulders and then bent to tear at the god's neck. I could not bear to watch any longer…but I could not look away, either.

Then I saw it- the heavy bent of Mehrunes' shoulders as he knew he was nearing defeat. The glorious cry of Akatosh as he rose into the sky and bent his head only to breath one last fiery blast at the daedric prince. And with that final blow, Dagon was spent and his body and power banished back to the planes of Oblivion.

The great, golden dragon pulled back from his last blow and swiveled his mighty head about- and I could swear he looked at me. Me, with my pathetic tears and filthy hair and trembling in my very boots. But as he hunched over, drawing breath, he looked at me and I know he saw me. Then he lifted his head back, arching his slender neck atop those muscled shoulders, wings out flung, and roared his dominance and victory to the world.

And if there was a touch of grief in the cry, I was the only person in all of Cyrodiil who heard it, and knew what it meant.

* * *

For in the seconds following, there was a burst of fire, so bright I had to shield my eyes, and when I looked up again, all that remained of the epic battle that had been fought there, and of Martin's noble sacrifice, was a statue of the dragon-god, Akatosh, where once his Dragonfires burned.

My tears fell bitterly as I struggled to keep hold of my out of control emotions and I hit the ground, unable to hold myself upright any longer. The pain I felt was too great, the loss…indescribable. It was worse than anything I'd felt before. Not my sister's death, not my family's rejection.

"Martin," I whispered, "are you still there? Tell me you're still there."

But when I looked up again stone was still the only thing in my sight. And then, from a distance, as if I were dreaming it, I heard his voice. Telling me he was proud to meet such a fate. Telling me that the future was mine for the taking, that the Third Era had ended and the shape of the new age and the new empire would be up to me. That it rested in my hands.

I looked down at my worn gauntlets and pulled them off, miserable. Gazing at my reddened, sweaty palms, I clenched and unclenched my hands a few times and a mockery of a laugh escaped my lips.

"This is the where the future of Cyrodiil, of Tamriel, rests, Martin?" I murmured. "You're going to wish you were wrong about that."

A hand on my shoulder jolted me from my reverie and just like that, the final wisps of Martin's presence, his voice and spirit, were gone. I leapt up and turned to snarl at whoever had deprived me of my last moments with Martin only to find an ecstatic Chancellor Ocato beaming at me. My face fell again and I felt the ache in my chest become more hollow.

"We are victorious! Mehrunes is defeated! But- where is Martin?"

I could barely make my voice work.

"Martin is gone."

"What? What do you mean? Wait, we saw the avatar of Akatosh- you mean that was Martin?"

I sighed. I was done with this question and answer session before it had begun.

"He used the Amulet of Kings. With his own blood."

"I see- oh. _Oh_. So Martin truly is gone, then. What will the empire do without an heir? He would have made such a fine emperor, I know."

I nearly found myself saying, "Yes, yes, and you're so sad he's gone, what will you do about your precious empire now that you're left in charge since you did such a good job managing it during the crisis." Fortunately I managed to stop before the words made it out of my mouth. My shoulders hunched of their own accord and I turned back to the statue, put one hand on it.

Could I still feel him, inside?

Ocato's voice continued to prattle on, about my work, appointing me Champion, giving me a special armor to commemorate the position. I found myself nodding at everything he said, just to get him to leave me alone. And then he was finally finished and we stood in silence, looking up at the great statue.

I wanted to kill Akatosh, I wanted to hate him for taking Martin from me. That, or I wanted to kill myself, to be with him. But even then I had no way of knowing where he was, or what had truly happened to his spirit. I'd seen him transfigured and then turned to stone. I'd seen him at the pinnacle of his life and ability.

And I knew he'd want me to honor that. To honor his memory and the sacrifice he'd made for the sake of the empire and its people. But all I could do was feel sorry for myself as the ache inside me spread. I felt dizzy and sick and without another word to Ocato, I turned my back on him and Akatosh- on Martin- and walked from the ruined, yet triumphant Temple.

Then darkness overtook me and I only knew the strength leaving my knees as the ground rushed up to meet me.

* * *

**AN: I know some of you, pretty early on, wanted a happier ending than the gameplay one...but this is it. It's not the final chapter of Katherine's story, by any means, but I went into writing it with this chapter in mind. It's the beauty and tragedy of Martin's sacrifice that captured my heart and imagination, so I had to write it this way. Sorry if you're disappointed, but you should know by now...I love drama. ;) Hope you like it anyway and can stick with me for the next few chapters, which will be the last. Love to all my reviewers and faithful readers.**

**Also, I know I didn't get things quite accurate in the last chapter, but a few small changes here and there never hurt anyone. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I own no part of TES games or plots, all rights to Bethesda Softworks! **

**AN: Thanks for sticking with me. Here at long last is another chapter. I hope to get this finished in the next month at most. Ha. We'll see. :) Kicking is effective. Please let me know what you think of the direction we're taking! Not that I can do much about it, this has been in planning for, oh, since I started the story. x)**

* * *

Martin was standing right in front of me and I reached him easily, felt his arms go about me in a warm embrace.

That was how I knew it was a nightmare.

I woke up, gasping for breath and clutching the bed linens about me. There was a cool hand on my face and then a mug at my lips and I felt cold water trickling down my throat. I sputtered a bit, but Nerussa held firm against my feeble protests. When she sat back from me and stared at me solemnly I knew I must be a complete mess.

"How long-" I began and she cut me off.

"Only a day…here, that is. You were found passed out in the streets of the Imperial City. The Temple District." She looked at me keenly. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit," I managed and she frowned.

"I imagine so. Well, drink up. There's more food and water where that came from. Katherine, I'm very worried-"

"Don't be," I said shortly and swung my legs out of the bed. "I have to go." I began searching for my clothes and Nerussa clucked unhappily.

"You're not going anywhere."

"You can't stop me and by the gods, I can't stay here," I replied. "There's work to do."

"What are you talking about? The Oblivion Crisis is over! You saved us all, from what I hear."

I laughed bitterly and continued pulling clothes on. "I didn't save anyone."

"Don't be ridiculous! You saved so many- closing gates, helping strangers- I heard all the tales while you were away. I can't believe you hid this from me-"

"Yet I didn't save the one who mattered most," I responded and turned to face her.

"Ah, you knew Martin, I heard that as well. Is it true that he gave his life for us all? Transformed into Akatosh himself?"

"Yes, yes, it's all true," I said. I stared at her and she returned my gaze, her eyes hard. I lowered my head and put my hands over my face.

She knew immediately and was up with her arms about me.

"So it is," she breathed. "By the Nine. I am sorry, Katherine."

"Not as sorry as me."

"Come now, dear, stay as long as you like. Rest. Know yourself."

"I already know myself and resting any longer won't help. I need action. Purpose. For weeks all I've known was…him, and now that he's gone…"

I felt lost without him, but I couldn't say the words aloud. I still couldn't quite make myself believe he really was gone, just like I couldn't quite believe he'd ever existed. The whole thing felt like some awful dream, where I'd held happiness in the palm of my hand before it had been snatched away. Just like with my sister…nothing ever lasted. The good things never lasted.

I felt tears escaping my eyes and Nerussa clucked again and held me more tightly. I finally pushed her away gently.

"I have to go."

She eyed me sadly and sighed. "Yes, I can see you do. What do you intend to do, then?"

I looked at her seriously a moment, the wheels in my head turning for the first time. What did I intend to do? The answer was on my lips too quickly.

"Avenge Aelwin." I continued to pull clothes and armor on. "I swore I would, after the crisis was over. Well, it's finished now. There's nothing holding me back." _No emperor to serve._

Nerussa nodded gravely. "In that case I'll pack some supplies for you. Food and drink." She continued to speak as she bustled from the room, with me following her. In no time at all, my few possessions were packed, provisions wrapped and stored, and I was saddling Lore yet again. Soon there was just one thing left to do. I turned to Nerussa as I tightened the girth.

"I asked you to keep an ear open while I was gone. What have you heard?"

Nerussa cast her eyes away as she considered my question. "I heard a number of things, truth told, but the only one about the vampires originated from the city itself." She turned and stared across the long bridge, up at those hallowed walls and towers. "One man traveling through said there was some sort of secret order that had formed to save the city of an infestation. A woman told me there had been at least one attack outside, on the streets. They say another woman died. Whether any of it's true, or not…"

"Some of it is true," I said decisively. "There's no smoke in this land where there isn't a fire, first."

Nerussa shook her head. "Using my wisdom against me, now?"

"Never. I'm only using it for myself." I smiled at her and kissed both her cheeks. "There. Keep a room for me. You know I'll return when I can."

"Be safe, Katherine," she whispered. Then she clung to me once more before stepping away and hastily wiping her eyes. I didn't tarry, and pulled myself atop Lore before I could change my mind. Then I turned him about and pointed him towards the Imperial City for what I hoped would be the last time in a very, very long while.

I could've left him with Nerussa, I'd known that the minute we'd clattered across the stone bridge and approached the great gates yet again. But something had stopped me, had insisted that I not let my beautiful horse, my one faithful companion, out of my sight for a second. He was too important. Lore had been with me through it all and he would outlast my memories of Martin, long after I'd forgotten the way those arms had held me, or the exact shade of blue those eyes had been. Besides, there was a part of me that knew I was heading into danger. A part of me knew I didn't intend to come back from this mission to avenge Aelwin and I wanted Lore with me every step of the way. I was being selfish to the poor thing, I knew that. But when I dismounted and led him into the stables outside the gates, he gently placed his nose over my shoulder and nuzzled me fondly, whuffing softly in my ear. Tears came to my eyes and I turned to stroke his neck.

"Good boy," I whispered and he butted his forehead against my hand. I smiled and landed a quick kiss on his nose. "I'll be back soon," I told him and I knew he understood. He always did. Still, a loud whinny followed me as I left the stables and my heart beat hard in my chest. After losing Martin the way I had, it seemed I could imagine danger and parting around every corner, but I forced myself to shake off the fear and entered the city. I had no idea where to begin, aside from asking the perfect strangers about possible vampire sightings. And of course in doing that I had to suffer their stares and determined questions and enthusiasm over Martin and Akatosh.

Hang Akatosh, I wanted to scream by the time I'd spent an hour wandering the streets. Nerussa had been right: I was still exhausted from the ordeal, I was hungry, I was in a foul mood, and no amount of knowing myself could help the poor citizen that asked me the wrong question the tenth time in a row. I was very much in danger of picking a fight, or worse, giving up, when I heard someone shout my name. Well, not my name, rather, the voice called out to the Hero of Kvatch, the Champion of Cyrodiil. I was hard pressed to even want to hear them out, but I found myself turning around anyhow. One hour of excruciating conversation in the Temple District, with the statue of Akatosh hanging over me, had made me desperate.

The woman calling for me ran up to me quickly, a broad smile on her face.

"Oh, thank the Nine, I've found you! It's very important you come with me, please. My husband has sent me to find you – I'm so glad you're still in the city. I wasn't sure if you'd have left by now or not…"

"Please, tell me what you want of me," I ordered wearily, cutting her off, but she didn't take offense. Instead, she proceeded to give me the very information I'd been pounding the streets for.

"Go to Seridur's house," the woman told me. "He knows the most about the…"

"Yes?" I prompted her. She glanced about warily and then leaned in to speak.

"The vampires," she finished in a whisper.

"So someone knows of the foul creatures?" I asked and the woman nodded.

"Seridur has formed a band to fight the fearsome things," she said. "Please, go now. They are waiting for you. They need your help."

"I'm sure they do," I muttered and took off, barely waiting for her to finish pointing me in the right direction. I arrived at Seridur's house as dusk was falling and banged on his door with the flat of my hand, not bothering with civilities.

"Are you Seridur?" I asked the man who opened the door. When he shook his head I pushed into the house past him and stood in the front hall, glancing about casually while the man behind me hastily shut the door and tried to catch my attention. I ignored him and headed instead for a taller, statelier man who was descending the stairs.

"Are you Seridur?" I called to him and he paused in his descent to look over at me. He took his time in his estimation and when he finally reached the last step and approached me, I was close to losing my patience yet again. Before I could speak, however, he smiled calmly at me and gestured me further into his home.

"You are the Champion," he said. "Welcome. I'm so glad you could join us. We are in great need of your services."

"Yes, I know about the vampires," I said and he gave a small start. He glanced back at me as he led me towards his basement door.

"You do?"

"I know there is an infestation originating in the city and spreading to the surrounding countryside," I told him. "Just tell me where they are and I will deal with them."

He relaxed some. "Ah, but that is a slightly more delicate matter," he said. "I really think you'd better join us downstairs, where we can explain the situation fully."

"Us?" I asked. "Have you formed a citizen's militia?"

"A brotherhood, if you will," he said with a smile. "It was deemed necessary, in these dark times. Please, follow me."

And though I was suspicious, though I was weary, I did. Gods help me, I followed him.

* * *

It didn't take me long to figure out what was going on, but less clear was what I should do about it. Seridur was obviously not to be trusted and the minute I laid eyes on Roland, I knew Seridur had been lying. Whether I believed Roland was telling the truth, however…that was another matter entirely, but I didn't see what choice I had at that point. I was tired and grieving and would have done anything to avoid thinking about reality. Avenging Aelwin became my entire world in those two careless days and when I realized Roland was right and found myself in Memorial Cave surrounded by starving vampires, I seriously feared my entire world might come crashing down in that moment. Fortunately, my heart was filled with unholy anger and it kept me going, slashing through one undead after another until I confronted Seridur himself, deep within the caverns.

He was strangely beautiful to me, in those seconds before I took his life. His skin glowed golden as it had in the city and his eyes remained that burnished hue, not the pale pink or red so many of his kin bore.

"So, you've found me out. I knew you would be a liability, but I had to hire you – I had to keep up appearances. Well, once I've dealt with you, I think I'll take care of that Roland next. Not to mention my precious Order. Quite a few things to do, don't you agree?" he taunted me, but I barely heard him. All I could see was every defeat I'd suffered, every failure I'd endured since my awful trials had begun. I saw red; I saw blood – and to my horror, it was soon my own blood I saw, spilling across the shiny patina of my armor as Seridur slipped past my best defenses to tear into the tender skin of my neck. His blood mingled with mine in the mere seconds he took to drink from me and though I held enough strength to push him off, to skewer him on the end of my sword like the animal he was, it was too late for me. The crazed gleam in his eyes told me he knew it as well as I and he laughed as he died.

"Perhaps you will take care of my list for me," he gasped, cackling around his wheezing breaths. "My liability becomes my legacy!"

I drove my sword harder into him and he fell back to the ground without another word, to my relief. I fell back as well and immediately dug in my pockets for a curing potion. My hands came up empty and I howled in rage. Desperate, I clenched my fist and attempted to cast a healing spell – something that would at least allow me to leave the caves and get to safety and civilization before the horrible disease took hold…but the spells wouldn't come. My magicka was drained from setting fire to the host of vampire brethren I'd fought through to reach Seridur. Gasping from the burning pain in my neck and staunching the wound with one hand and a wadded bundle of old rags, I began to stagger from the caverns. I couldn't lie down – I would lose too much time, too much blood. I had to make it back to Lore and speed my way to Nerussa. It was the only way. She would cure the disease and I would be…safe…

I stumbled and fell hard and realized that more than my neck was injured. When had that stain spread across my upper thigh? Swearing again, I leaned against the cool wall of the cave and closed my eyes for the barest second. My skin burned so badly and my blood felt heavy in my veins…

When I opened my eyes again, more than a minute had passed. My mouth felt dry and my neck was crusted with dried blood. I'd been out for hours. Shaking my head, I tried to stand and found myself too weak to move.

"No!" I tried to mumble, but the word left my mouth funny – slurred. I felt strange – tired and cold, yet feverish. I tried to pull to mind all the things that had kept me going the last several months and found not even Martin's face would come to me now, though he'd left me only days ago. My eyes closed again and I feared what I would see when I awoke. Would it be the same red I'd seen moments before, fueled by anger, by betrayal? Or would I still know myself at all?

I think I spoke his name there at the end, before the darkness and the fever dreams overtook me again, but I cannot be certain of anything except two things.

One, that immediately after Martin's death I thirsted only for something to keep my hands busy and my mind busier, that I would never need think of him again, or waste time in feeling the heartache of losing him. And two, that in seeking to slake that thirst, I had brought upon myself a thirst far worse than any I had ever known before, and that when I awoke, I would have my wish. Martin, and any of the Septim Blood, would certainly be the farthest thing from my mind. Blood, regardless of pedigree, would be my only lord, and myself, thinking foolishly that I had nothing to live for anyway, surrendered to what I thought was my fate.

* * *

**AN: I apologize for the lengthy delay in this next portion. I blame life and tumblr. Thanks for your patience - and thanks for the mild kick to complete another chapter. (You know who you are!) :) You are absolutely right, there is more to this story. A few more chapters and then we'll be able to call it a day. **


End file.
